


thirsty for love

by hyuckheis (johnyongs)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Dank Memes, It's Not Crack I Swear, M/M, Slow Burn, Suspension Of Disbelief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-29 19:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11447742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnyongs/pseuds/hyuckheis
Summary: taeyong gets matched as a blood donor to an all-powerful vampire who spends too much time on the internet





	1. bad dracula

If Taeyong had been asked as a child where he imagined himself at twenty two, there were a lot of things he might have said. A ballet dancer, an astronaut, maybe both. The sky was not the limit, all he had to do was reach up as though to grasp at the moon, and he could imagine a million possibilities. 

 

Taeyong at the actual age of twenty two finds himself a broke, over-worked medical student, with bills stacking precariously on his dining room table, a younger brother to raise and protect, and overworked to the point where he cannot tell his hands from his feet. 

 

And at this current moment, he is standing in the overwhelmingly grand foyer of arguably one of the most powerful vampires ever to exist. 

 

“I will inform the Master of your arrival.” Taeyong bows deeply to the butler, who’s face is as starched as his uniform. Taeyong watches warily as the man disappears around a corner, before surveying his surroundings. 

 

Lining the walls are oil paintings of what looks like centuries of royalty. All the figures possess an ethereal beauty and regality that could only come with being a Supernatural. Taeyong tries to swallow down his nerves. He’s nothing but a weak, frail human, and he’d willingly put himself in a situation where he could die in the blink of an eye. 

 

_ No, _ he shakes his head. He can’t think that way. The Accords had been drafted decades ago, ending a centuries-old war and protecting both humans and Supernaturals. No one would hurt Taeyong. Or, they could, and there would be dire consequences. Not that it would matter much when he was dead. 

 

“What the fuck,” Taeyong mumbles to himself. If he doesn’t reign in his anxiety, it will surround him like a fresh scent one amasses only after a bath, and it wouldn’t leave a good impression on who he was here to see. 

 

“The Master will see you in his study.” Taeyong nearly jumps a mile in the air when the butler reappears. He tries to get a reign on his poor heartbeat and nods, following the butler down the path from which he’d come. 

 

They pass through a dark corridor, and Taeyong can’t help the way goosebumps rise on his skin. It would be too easy for Taeyong to be eliminated on the spot-- anyone could be around the corner, ready to strike, and he had to remind himself he was in the home of royalty, not a haunted house. He was here for a purpose, and if he died, it wouldn’t be convenient for either party (mostly Taeyong, though). 

 

Like with most questionable situations Taeyong had been in, it always came back to Yuta Nakamoto. It hadn’t been Taeyong’s plan to make the acquaintance of the lycan, but they had forged an unlikely friendship in college when they became neighbors, and the rest had been history. 

 

Now, four years later, Taeyong was in medical school while simultaneously working full time at a coffee shop, while Yuta had somehow gotten involved in some government business that he wasn’t allowed to talk about, until one day Yuta had burst into his apartment with a dangerous, determined gleam in his eyes, and said he had a proposition. 

 

And that proposition had landed Taeyong here, walking up what could be the most ridiculous spiral staircase he’d ever had the misfortune of climbing. He supposed it wasn’t a big deal for vampires, who were superhuman in every possible aspect. Taeyong is certainly not superhuman (he might go so far as to say most days he feels subhuman), and by the time the butler comes to a halt at the top, he’s struggling for breath. 

 

Taeyong follows the butler down the hallway, trying hard not to make it seem like he’s dying for air. They stop in front of a set of double doors, and the butler knocks thrice, before opening it and motioning for Taeyong to step inside. 

 

Almost immediately, the door is closed behind him, and Taeyong’s stomach flips. His eyes dart around the room, which is as dimly lit as the rest of the house-castle. He can vaguely make out the walls lined with books, and a wide desk in front curtains that had been drawn. 

 

“Taeyong Lee.” It takes everything in Taeyong’s power not to yelp. The voice is coming from a large chair behind the desk. The seat is turned away from Taeyong, so he has no idea who he’s supposed to be looking at.

 

“Have a seat.” 

 

It takes a moment to process the request, and Taeyong closes his eyes and purses his lips, taking a moment to compose himself before walking slowly to the chair on the side of the desk closest to him. He sits down slowly, carefully, and he can hear every inhale and exhale of his breath, along with the fervent pounding of his heart. 

 

“I’ve reviewed your file,” the voice continues. Now that Taeyong has gotten over the initial shock, he’s able to note the natural authority in the tone, the subtle regality that comes only with millennia of life experience. “But I wanted to ask you questions in person.” 

 

“O-of course.” Those are the first words Taeyong has spoken since he had entered this godforsaken place, and he winces at the stutter. 

 

“Do you understand why you’re here, Taeyong?” 

 

Taeyong chews on his lip and thinks back to when Yuta had barged into his apartment. 

 

_ “A blood donor program,” Yuta explains. At Taeyong’s confused frown, he rolls his eyes, as though he can’t believe Taeyong could be so daft as not to understand. “For vampires. I’ve been working on this with the Department of Human Relations. It’s basically like a glorified sugar daddy thing. You supply fresh blood, and your vampire host gives you things you need, like housing, financial aid, yada yada yada.” _

 

Taeyong knew that humans already donated blood for vampires, in exchange for little to no murderous late night rampages. They were packaged and available for creatures of the night to do with as they pleased. He supposed that vampires already had humans they fed off of fresh, but Yuta had explained that it was pretty much illegal, because there was too much risk to humans. He’d been working on this exchange program for several years, apparently, ironing out the kinks, and he wanted Taeyong to be involved. 

 

Taeyong’s answer had of course been an immediate and steadfast  _ no, _ but then Yuta reminded him of his rather dire financial situation, made even worse because Taeyong’s precious younger brother Donghyuck had just been accepted into a prestigious (and expensive) university that Taeyong now also had to pay for, along with his own tuition and bills. 

 

_ “You can’t keep living this way,” Yuta had said adamantly, and there was a mixture of concern and pity in his eyes that Taeyong couldn’t stand, and he told Yuta so. “Just… try this. I promise if things don’t work out I will personally take responsibility for everything.”  _

 

Yuta Nakamoto, on top of being conniving and manipulative, was also stubborn, especially when it came to his opinions on the well-beings of his friends. So Taeyong had caved, because he was desperate. Yuta had taken him to a special clinic to have his blood tested ( _ “For any weird disease. You know, precautions.” _ ) and filled out an application. 

 

Not two days later, Yuta had showed up at his door, telling him he’d been matched. 

 

“The… blood donor program?” Taeyong hates the way his answer comes out as a question. He’s a medical student, he’s been through much more grueling interviews. The question is a bit stupid, and his answer feels even more so; the silence that he’s met with after he speaking only proves this theory. 

 

“But do you know why you’re  _ here, _ Taeyong? Here, and not somewhere else?” 

 

_ “Youngho Seo. You’ve been matched with Youngho Seo, Taeyong!” Yuta had explained breathlessly.  _

 

Taeyong was speechless. Anyone who didn’t live under a rock knew who Youngho Seo was. Known more commonly as The Shadow, he was a cultural mystery. He’d eluded all prying eyes, and no one knew anything about him except that he was powerful beyond imagination. And Taeyong had, by some cruel twist of fate, been matched to him through what seemed like an innocuous blood donor program. 

 

_ “What? Do you know how ridiculous that is?”  _

 

_ “Don’t ask me how,” Yuta says, clicking his tongue, annoyed that his best friend isn’t sharing in the excitement. “I’m just the middleman, Taeyong.” _

 

_ “B-but. Youngho Seo? He’s… royalty.”  _

 

_ Yuta rolls his eyes (he’s terribly good at that). “Did you think you were gonna get matched to some average vampire? This program is expensive, only the richest vampires can be involved right now.”  _

 

_ “But Youngho Seo?” _

 

Truthfully, it was a question that had been driving Taeyong crazy trying to answer. Every aspect of his life was decidedly below average. “... I guess I don’t.” 

 

A dark chuckle. Taeyong suppresses a shiver. “I doubted that they’d tell you.  _ If _ they even knew. It took me quite some time to find you, Taeyong.” 

 

“What does that mean?” He tries not to let his voice crack. These are words he would never, in his life, expect anyone to say to him. 

 

“Do you know who a Blood Singer is, Taeyong?” 

 

“I don’t.” He shifts in his seat, antsy. The person in the seat opposite him (who he can only assume is Youngho now) still hasn’t turned around. He feels startlingly inadequate in his knowledge of vampires. He’d never met one in person, not when vampires occupied the highest echelon of living, and wouldn’t be caught dead in Taeyong’s part of town. 

 

“A well-kept secret in the vampire community, then. In the simplest of terms, a Blood Singer is a human whose blood contains special properties. They’ve been hunted to near-extinction, because my kind, for all their intelligence, are greedy and stupid.” Youngho chuckles bitterly. “You are the first of your kind that I’ve met in many centuries. You are special.”

 

Taeyong had been bouncing his leg up to this point, a nervous habit. At Youngho’s words, his body goes still. That couldn’t be right. Taeyong was unremarkable in every way, and struggled to keep his head above the water in every situation he was put in. He was _ not _ special. 

 

“There must be a mistake,” Taeyong blurts. “I-- I’m not--” 

 

“I do not make mistakes, Taeyong.” Youngho’s words are hard with a finality that Taeyong shrinks back into his seat.  _ I’ve pissed him off, _ Taeyong berates himself silently. “I can smell your blood from here. If I did not have thousands of years of practice in restraint, we would not be talking at this moment.” 

 

At that Taeyong’s face flushes with heat. Were all vampires this direct? Did Youngho mean that he would have killed Taeyong? 

 

“Tell me your reasons for becoming involved with something like this. It is not without risks, as I’m sure you know.” 

 

Taeyong notes that the way Youngho demands rather than asks. He presses his lips into a thin line, trying to compose himself enough to give a coherent answer, without sounding like a charity case, which he essentially is. “I’m currently in medical school, and my brother is going off to college too, soon. I work full time but even then, the financial situation is bad, and it’s taking a toll. My friend Yuta suggested this, and this seemed like a better alternative than dropping out of school.” 

 

Taeyong winces. He’d never been the best with words, and now he really sounds pitiful. He was poor, weak, and tired, but he’d always had his pride. Now that was shattered as well. He feels a bit humiliated, and he probably should have expected that, but it doesn’t make it sting any less. 

 

“If we were to come to an agreement, what would be your terms?” Youngho asks, voice even and clinical. No pity. Either he’s good at covering things up, or he doesn’t care. Taeyong thinks it’s probably the latter. 

 

“I-- I hadn’t thought of specifics. Maybe just enough to cover the bills and part of my tuition? Then I can cover the rest with my job--”

 

“You will not be working while you are a full time medical student.” 

 

“That’s unreasonable. How will I pay for everything?” Taeyong frowns, forgetting who he’s talking to for a moment. 

 

“I will take care of your finances.” 

 

“No, I will only accept what I deserve.” Taeyong winces. He wasn’t going to take advantage of a situation like this, even with Youngho Seo’s wealth. It wasn’t right. 

 

Youngho chuckles, and it strikes something deep in Taeyong’s chest. He squirms. “I don’t think you understand how valuable you are to me, Taeyong. Taking care of your finances is a small fraction of what I could be doing to have you.” 

 

Taeyong huffs. “I am not an object.” 

 

There is a beat of silence. “It was not my intention to make you seem so. But I need you to know that you  _ will _ have whatever you need. You need not live in discomfort while you are under my care. You must understand that you are doing something incredibly important for me. It is only right that I treat you accordingly.” 

 

Something warm blooms in Taeyong’s chest, despite the formality and distance in Youngho’s words. “I… understand.” He chews on his lip before continuing. “And your terms?” 

 

“I will require your services at least once every two weeks, at most three times a week. It shouldn’t take more than an hour at a time. I will make things as safe and painless for you as possible.” 

 

Taeyong considers this for a moment. He doesn’t have any other experience to compare this to, so he’s going in blind. But he supposes all of this is reasonable. “Okay.” 

 

“So then, we are in agreement?” 

 

_ It’s now or never. _ “Yes.” 

 

“Fantastic.” There is a moment of silence, and several clicks, and immediately, the lights come on, and the curtains draw back automatically. Taeyong winces at the sudden outpour of light, taken by surprise at the change. Then the chair is swung around and he comes face to face with Youngho Seo. 

 

The first thing Taeyong notes is how startlingly young Youngho looks, with impossibly dark, sparkly eyes, thick brows, piercings lining his ears, and swept back blue-black hair sporting a modern undercut. He’s handsome in a way Taeyong has never seen before, perhaps because Taeyong had never come face to face with a vampire before. Everything about Youngho Seo is ethereal. But what surprises Taeyong the most is the playful grin adorning his full pink lips. 

 

“How was that?” Youngho asks, sounding very different than before. Taeyong blinks at him. “I was going for the mysterious, intimidating vibe. I recently watched one of your human movies,  _ The Godfather _ ? There was a scene like this and I wanted to try it out. Did I scare you?” 

 

“I--” Taeyong thinks maybe he’s being pranked. Yuta was known for his elaborate jokes, which Taeyong had suffered from the most during college. He furrows his eyebrows and takes a furtive glance around the room, looking for hidden cameras. He glares at Youngho. “Is this a prank?” 

 

At that, Youngho bursts out laughing. He tilts his head back, covering his mouth with his hand, and  _ laughs. _ It irritates Taeyong, but he says nothing. “I guess it is a prank, though not a well-executed one, I’m afraid. I’m out of practice.” Youngho reaches out his hand, smile open and friendly. “I apologize for the dramatics. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Taeyong. I’m Youngho.” 

 

Taeyong finds himself reaching forward to shake Youngho’s hand, though he’s not sure how he has control of his limbs. “Likewise,” he says, albeit dryly. Youngho’s hand is large, warm, and calloused. 

 

Youngho snickers at Taeyong’s response. “I must have really shocked you. I was actually also going to have a glass of wine out or something but I figured it would be overkill. I know my reputation precedes me.” 

 

“Yeah…” Taeyong’s breath comes out in one long  _ whoosh _ . He’s confused and doesn’t quite know how to react besides being massively annoyed. Had Youngho set him up to scare him out of his wits just so he could have a laugh?

 

Youngho waves his hand dismissively. “I’ve lived too many thousands of years to take things seriously, it’s best if you don’t take me seriously either.” He leans forward, eyes sincere. “Though I meant what I said. You are very important to me, and I will take care of you.”

 

_ Oh god, Taeyong, pull yourself together. _ “I’m… sure.” 

 

At that, Youngho’s face lights up with a smile that makes him look deceptively young, despite his iron-pressed, cornflower blue dress shirt and Rolex. “I’m glad to hear that. Let’s have fun, okay?” 

 

\--

 

“He did  _ what?” _ Yuta slams his hands on the counter, leaning forward over the register and into Taeyong’s space. Taeyong clicks his tongue in annoyance and shoves Yuta back. 

 

“I’m not repeating what I said.” 

 

“Is he a nutcase? Did three thousand years of living finally get to his head and he snapped? What do you mean he said  _ let’s have fun? _ ” 

 

Taeyong closes his eyes, trying to fend off the headache. He’d been working since his afternoon classes got out, and Yuta’s voice is far too loud this close to midnight. “I don’t have an explanation for you. That’s just what he said.” 

 

After the theatrics of Youngho’s introduction had ended, they’d exchanged phone numbers, and Youngho had arranged for a car to take Taeyong back home (he was planning on taking the bus, but apparently an acquaintance of Youngho Seo was  _ not _ allowed to use public transportation). 

 

“I’m still trying to figure out why he wanted  _ you. _ He was so pressed about it, it was kinda freaky.” 

 

“I-- I have no idea. He didn’t tell me.” Youngho had been adamant that Taeyong not reveal his status as Blood Singer.  _ For your safety, _ he’d explained. As if Taeyong didn’t have enough things to worry about already. He felt bad lying to Yuta, his closest friend, but Youngho was paying his bills, therefore his instruction took precedent in this situation. 

 

Yuta’s face twists. “Something’s fishy here. I think you shouldn’t do this anymore, Taeyong. It was stupid of me to even recommend this--”

 

“Yuta,” Taeyong murmurs, reaching forward to take Yuta’s wrist. “I can take care of myself. I agreed to this, and now I have to face the consequences.”

 

Yuta sighs. “You’re right. Maybe Youngho is just… really weird. He’s old, right? He’s bound to have a few screws loose.” Taeyong’s lips quirk up at that. It certainly seemed that way. Yuta leans in again, eyes conspiratorial. “But tell me the truth. What’s he look like? Is he totally ancient? Like grey hair and wrinkles?” 

 

“ _ No, _ ” Taeyong giggles, because that’s the most ridiculously ironic thing Yuta could have said. 

 

“Oh, so he’s hot then?” Yuta smirks. Taeyong blushes and swats him away. 

 

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter.” 

 

Yuta frowns, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m just saying. You’re gonna be with him a lot, he’s gonna be drinking your blood. It’s convenient if he’s nice to look at, you know?” 

 

_ You don’t know the half of it, _ Taeyong thinks. 

 

Right then, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He looks around the empty shop surreptitiously before digging it out. 

 

“Oh, who texted you?” Yuta leans over to look at the screen and Taeyong shoves him back. 

 

**From: Youngho**

**It’s a bit short notice and it’s extremely late, but I would like to see you.**

**If you’re not already sleeping and have time to spare, that is.**

 

Taeyong’s mouth goes dry, because he’s not prepared. He didn’t think Youngho would want to meet so soon and so suddenly. He hadn’t had time to mentally prepare himself for the idea of a vampire--  _ Youngho _ \-- to be drinking blood from him. 

 

“Oh shit, is that  _ the _ Youngho?” In his state of shock he hadn’t noticed Yuta grabbing the phone from him. “He’s pretty… polite? You’d think a rich old vampire would be more snooty.” 

 

Taeyong’s hands are shaking as he snatches his phone back. Everything about Youngho was unpredictable. He’d defied any and all expectations Taeyong had. Youngho was polite almost to a fault. He was being unrealistically kind and thoughtful, if Taeyong disregarded their odd first meeting. Maybe if he was more demanding, Taeyong might feel less guilty for taking his money. 

 

“Well? Are you gonna go?” 

 

“I mean… I guess? It would be bad to turn him down right?” 

 

Yuta shrugs and motions for Taeyong to type out a response. 

 

**From: Taeyong**

**I get off of work at midnight**

**I’d come but buses aren’t working**

 

The response comes unnaturally fast. 

 

**From: Youngho**

**I’ll send a car, it will be waiting for you when you finish.**

**Thank you for agreeing to meet me.**

**I look forward to seeing you.**

 

And if Taeyong’s heart flutters, he ignores it. It’s just nerves.

 

\--

 

Youngho looks very alert for someone awake at one in the morning. Taeyong feels much less so, but the spike in adrenaline from seeing the vampire gives him just enough energy. 

 

“Hello, Taeyong. I apologize for calling on you so late,” is the first thing Youngho says when Taeyong enters his study (the path there terrifies him much less this time around). Youngho is dressed in pressed black slacks, and a dark grey button down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. 

 

His hair is a little unkempt, as though he’d been running his fingers through it all day, and a strand hangs down over his forehead. Taeyong fights the urge to tuck it back. To say Youngho looked perfectly charming would be an understatement. Taeyong feels like a pumpkin next to him, dressed in a stained white shirt, jeans, and worn out sneakers.

 

“It’s fine,” Taeyong mumbles, shaking his head. 

 

“Please sit,” Youngho says, motioning at the large couch tucked in the back of the room. Taeyong hadn’t noticed it before, and he sits down in relief, letting his messenger bag slide down his shoulder and onto the carpeted floor. “You must be exhausted. You had class and work today, correct?” 

 

“Yeah I did.” Taeyong isn’t surprised that Youngho knows his schedule. He probably kept tabs on Taeyong for security purposes. 

 

Youngho walks over to him and sits across from him, right on the low coffee table. “I didn’t want you to have to come in this condition, but I’m leaving town for approximately a week and a half in the morning, and I’m far too excited for this, I couldn’t wait.” Youngho smiles boyishly. 

 

“Patience isn't one of my strong suits, unfortunately.”

 

Taeyong’s heart does a spin-flip, then he reminds himself that Youngho’s  _ this _ means his blood, not their meeting. “I don’t mind.” He smiles reassuringly, and is rewarded with one of Youngho’s blinding grins. 

 

“I’m happy to hear that.” Youngho scoots closer, face turning serious, and Taeyong sits up. “I don’t want to overwhelm you the first time. Think of this as a… test run of sorts. I won’t take too much, and I don’t think you’d be ready for that either. We’ll go slowly.” 

 

“Okay,” Taeyong breathes out, and he feels the uptick of his heartbeat against his ribs. “I’m… nervous though.” He lets out a strangled laugh, wringing his hands. 

 

“I would be surprised if you weren’t. This is a… unique situation.” Youngho gets up and carefully sits next to Taeyong, their thighs pressing together, and he almost jumps at the contact. If Youngho notices, he says nothing. At this proximity, Taeyong can faintly smell Youngho’s cologne, something spiced and expensive, undoubtedly. He also smells like clean linen, one of Taeyong’s most favorite smells, and it helps him relax. 

 

“Here,” Youngho murmurs, taking one of Taeyong’s hands in his own. Taeyong looks at him in alarm. Were all vampires this touchy? “If you find yourself getting uncomfortable, light-headed, or nauseous, squeeze my hand twice, and I’ll stop. Alright?” 

 

“Okay,” Taeyong breathes and curls his free hand into a fist. 

 

“Are you ready?” 

 

Taeyong laughs nervously. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready but let’s just do it.” 

 

Youngho chuckles, amused, and gives Taeyong’s hand a reassuring squeeze. His skin is warm and comforting, and Taeyong closes his eyes, trying his best to relax. 

 

He feels Youngho’s other hand come up to his throat, thumb pressing against his jaw, and gently helps tilt Taeyong’s head to the side, baring his neck. Youngho thumbs along the skin above his jugular, and it’s almost embarrassing how erratically the vein throbs. 

 

“You’re very nervous,” Youngho says. 

 

“Are you surprised about that?” Taeyong eeks out. Youngho laughs, and Taeyong feels his warm breath against his skin. Something hot curls in his gut, and he tries to ignore it. 

 

“No, I suppose I’m not. Though I wish you weren’t.” 

 

“I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” Taeyong says, because Youngho sounds genuinely regretful, and he doesn’t want to be a disappointment. 

 

Youngho hums, and his baritone vibrates so close to Taeyong’s skin that he shivers. “Just relax for me, dear.” 

 

Taeyong doesn’t have time to say anything, because suddenly, Youngho’s lips graze against the most sensitive part of his neck, and his body nearly seizes at the sensation. His heartbeat doubles as Youngho presses his mouth against him again, lips parted, and runs them over his skin, searching. 

 

“You smell absolutely delectable, Taeyong,” Youngho murmurs, and Taeyong feels the words right in his core. And as though to emphasize this, Youngho presses his nose against Taeyong’s skin and breathes in deeply. If Taeyong wasn’t flushed before, he certainly is now, the heat licking under his skin like pinpricks. An ancient vampire is about to dig his teeth into Taeyong’s skin to suck his blood out, and yet he’s…  _ aroused? _ Could he be more ridiculous? 

 

And then, as if to eliminate every strand of Taeyong’s sanity, Youngho licks his skin, pressing down right over his frantic pulse. His tongue is wet, warm, tentative, as though he’s waiting for Taeyong to freak out and pull away. But Taeyong couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Despite all the conflicting emotions and embarrassment, he feels safe. He barely knows Youngho, and yet the primal part of his brain has already decided to trust the vampire. 

 

“J-just do it, please,” Taeyong whispers, noting Youngho’s hesitation. Everything about Youngho, his status, his age, his power, should make him behave in one way, and yet, he’s hesitating-- waiting for Taeyong, a lowly human, who he could break in a second. For whatever reason, Youngho values Taeyong’s boundaries. 

 

“Squeeze twice to stop,” Youngho reminds him, voice muffled against his skin. And then, without any more preamble, Youngho bites down. Taeyong gasps at the feeling of his skin being pierced, a sharp, mind-numbing pain, but it lasts only a second. As Youngho pulls at the blood, Taeyong feels a wave of perverse pleasure. It stings and throbs, but it feels  _ good, _ and Youngho’s hand is steady and strong against his neck, and that feels even better. 

 

Taeyong can feel himself getting weaker, little by little, but it doesn’t matter to him. He feels like he’s losing his mind in the best way, with Youngho pressed against him, the heat of his solid, firm body keeping him from floating away. His mouth falls open, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to moan. At the back of his mind, he wonders whether there’s something fundamentally wrong with him for getting so much pleasure out of this, but it evaporates the moment Youngho pulls away. 

 

“What--” Taeyong starts, but Youngho shushes him gently, leaning in again to lap at the blood pooling out, and licking over the puncture wounds. Taeyong vaguely remembers something about the healing properties of vampire saliva, and figures that’s what’s happening. 

 

Eventually, Youngho pulls away, and with great strength, Taeyong opens his eyes to meet his gaze. Youngho’s pupils are blown, his previously amber eyes almost pitch black. His lips are swollen and stained red with Taeyong’s blood, but that doesn’t scare him. 

 

The realization startles Taeyong-- Youngho doesn’t scare him. Nothing about this scares him, not anymore. It still feels a little ridiculous, embarrassing, but Taeyong is not afraid.  _ Am I a fool for trusting so quickly? _

 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Youngho’s constant use of endearments makes Taeyong smile. The vampire reaches forward to cup Taeyong’s face gently, as though searching for any signs of pain. 

 

“Generally okay. A little dizzy.” Taeyong frowns. “My legs feel like jelly. I don’t think I can stand.” 

 

Youngho smiles sympathetically. “Sit for as long as you need. I’ll go get you something to eat.” 

 

Before Taeyong can protest, Youngho has left the room in a blur. He sighs, leaning back against the soft cushions. His hand is shaking as he raises it to his face. His skin feels hot, no doubt from the force of his blush. How is he going to explain that to Youngho? Though the vampire might be too polite to bring it up. Taeyong doesn’t know which is more mortifying. 

 

It feels like mere seconds before Youngho is back, with a plate and beverage. “Drink this first,” Youngho says, handing Taeyong what looks like a juice box. 

 

Taeyong narrows his eyes at the brightly colored box. “Apple juice? Isn’t this for kids?” 

 

Youngho pulls a face. “I take personal offense to that.” 

 

Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “You--”

 

“I have been known to enjoy boxed juice on many occasions. Truly a modern marvel.” 

 

Taeyong giggles, poking the straw into the top, and taking a tentative sip. He then becomes aware of how thirsty he really is, finishing it in a minute. Youngho gives him a smug look when the straw makes a slurping sound at the finish, and Taeyong pouts, handing the empty box back. 

 

“I’ll get you another one later. Now eat.” Youngho places a plate of pasta on Taeyong’s lap with a fork. “You need your carbs.” 

 

Taeyong thanks him and digs in. The food is unimaginably satisfying; Taeyong considers himself a decent cook, but this pasta is a far cry from his own which are made with ready-made sauce from a jar and a handful of cheese thrown in mostly for luck. 

 

“Did you make this?” he asks, putting a forkful in his mouth. Youngho grins. 

 

“Thankfully, no.” Taeyong snorts at that and keeps chewing. Youngho seems satisfied when Taeyong finishes eating quickly, taking the empty plate and setting it aside. 

 

“How are you feeling?” Youngho asks. 

 

Taeyong smiles. “A lot better, thank you.” He tilts his head. “And you?” 

 

Youngho raises his eyebrows. “Me? What about me?” 

 

“How are you feeling? Was it… was it okay?” 

 

Youngho furrows his eyebrows, and Taeyong reads the conflict in his eyes. What could be so confusing about a simple question? “Yes. It was much better than okay. Thank you, Taeyong.” The air suddenly seems too serious, and Taeyong drops his eyes to his lap. “It wasn’t too painful, was it?” 

 

“No, not at all,” Taeyong says, shaking his head. He bites his lip, considering his next words. “It actually… felt… not bad?” He clears his throat, looking down at the floor 

 

When he builds up enough courage to look up, Youngho has the tiniest hint of a smile on his face, but it is without judgement. “We’re lucky then.” 

 

“I guess so…” The conversation slows to a stop, and Taeyong doesn’t really know what to do now. Is he just supposed to say thanks and leave? 

 

Youngho answers his question for him right as he thinks it. “I’d like if you could stay for a few hours, so I can monitor you. Some people react to this better than others, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” 

 

Taeyong blinks at him. A few more hours being watched by a vampire? “I-- okay.” It’s not like he has anything better to do than go home and do laundry, maybe sleep for a few hours if he could manage to get his mind to stop spinning. 

 

“I can have a room set up for you if you’d like to sleep.” 

 

Taeyong shakes his head quickly. “No, that’s fine. I’ll stay here, if that’s okay. I have a physio quiz I need to study for.” He reaches into his backpack and digs out his notes. 

 

Youngho nods, satisfied. “I’ll just be at my desk then. Let me know if you need anything.” He gets up and strides to the other side of the room to settle at his desk. The last time he’d sat there with Taeyong, the situation had been much different. 

 

“You’re not going to sleep?” Taeyong asks. 

 

Youngho smiles indulgently. “Vampires don’t really need to sleep. But I do when I’m bored.” That makes a smile tug at the corner of Taeyong’s lips. “You don’t want to sleep? Aren’t you tired?” 

 

Taeyong shrugs. “I’m tired but that doesn’t mean I’ll fall asleep. Unless my notes bore me to death.” At that, Youngho laughs, loud and booming in the large space. It makes Taeyong feel warm. 

 

\--

 

When Taeyong wakes up in the morning, he finds himself in an unfamiliar room, and an equally unfamiliar bed. He jerks up, pushing the thick down comforter away from his body and darting his eyes around. The room is lavishly decorated, like something out of a Victorian era palace. He looks down and is relieved to find himself in the clothes he was wearing the night before. 

 

His phone buzzes, and Taeyong jumps in fright before grabbing the offending device from off the nightstand. 

 

**From: Youngho**

**My guess is that you’ve probably woken up.**

 

Taeyong’s eyes rake the room suspiciously, looking for hidden cameras. 

 

**That sounds creepy, however I promise I’m not watching you.**

**It just seems like a reasonable time for a human to wake up.**

 

Taeyong checks the time on his phone.  _ 8:05 AM, _ it reads. He breathes a sigh of relief. He’s lucky it’s Saturday and all he has is work later in the afternoon. 

 

**You fell asleep approximately five minutes after you said you weren’t going to. You must have been very bored.**

**[image attached]**

 

Taeyong laughs in disbelief at the Kermit Sipping Tea meme that pops up on his screen. 

 

**From: Taeyong**

**You sent me a meme??**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Yes I’ve recently discovered them.**

**I feel a spiritual connection to “Salt Bae”.**

**However I don’t know what “bae” means. It sounds Latin.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**It’s not Latin**

 

**From: Youngho**

**I’m still learning, have mercy.**

 

Taeyong tucks his lips into his teeth in a poor attempt to hide his stupid grin. 

 

**But I digress.**

**You fell asleep and your snoring is offensively loud.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**I don’t snore!! TT______TT**

 

**From: Youngho**

**I took the liberty of recording an audio file in case you were to deny it.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Why are you like this TT____TT**

 

**From: Youngho**

**You mean charming? Handsome? Intelligent? Proficient in memes?**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**PleASE sTOP**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Alright I will stop. I keep getting off topic.**

**After three thousand years your focus wanes I’m afraid.**

**You fell asleep at a very uncomfortable looking angle so I moved you to my room. Feel free to stay as long as you like, I can have my butler make you breakfast as well.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Thank you Youngho**

 

**From: Youngho**

**It is my pleasure.**

**I wired funds to your bank account, please take a look and let me know if the amount is sufficient until the next time we meet.**

 

Taeyong has to reread the last message several times. He then scrambles to go to his mobile banking app and log in. When he reads the amount currently sitting in his checking account, he drops his phone. He rubs his eyes with one hand and grabs his phone with the other. “What the fuck…” he hisses. 

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Youngho…**

 

**From: Youngho**

**What? Is it not enough? I can put more in if you need.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**NO**

**PLEASE DO NOT**

**I**

**This is way too much Youngho**

**I’m just trying to live not put a down payment on a house??**

**I can’t accept this much money I won’t**

**Take it back, please**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Humans are strange, stubborn creatures.**

**I won’t take back the money. I told you that you will want for nothing in this relationship. Not to mention I have too much money to spare. I want your life to be comfortable.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**I could be comfortable for months with a fifth of what you gave me**

**I really can’t accept all this money**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Strange human.**

**If you will not accept this money on your behalf accept it on mine.**

**Pretend that the reason I gave you the money is because I want you healthy so that your blood will taste good. The healthier you are, the more appetizing you are. I am salivating at the thought of it.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Youngho I will fight you TT____TT**

**Why are you doing this to me????**

 

**From: Youngho**

**If you fight me you will lose, Taeyong. My logic makes perfect sense.**

**I know you are going to argue so I am going to turn off my phone for the remainder of the trip. We will talk when I get back.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**YOUNGHO**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Goodbye. Study hard, rest well. Stop overworking yourself.**

**Please quit your job.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**NO**

 

\--

 

“That’s an awfully smug smile you’re wearing there, your Majesty.” 

 

Youngho looks up at Doyoung, sitting next to him. He’d almost forgotten his assistant was there in the car with him. He raises an eyebrow and attempts to neutralize his expression. “I am allowed to feel amusement, am I not?”

 

Doyoung raises his eyebrows to match. If they hadn’t known each other for centuries, Youngho might have had him beheaded for excessive sass. “It’s not every day you are amused by something, your Majesty.” 

 

Doyoung has a point. After three thousand years, Youngho’s humor had certainly changed. It was harder to enjoy things. Except for memes. That was a wonderful new discovery for Youngho. 

 

Youngho considers how much he should reveal about Taeyong. Doyoung knew the details of the relationship, considering he dealt with all the arrangements himself. But there were some things he wanted to keep to himself. Taeyong was like a beautiful secret, a flower just shy of blooming, and Youngho wanted to shelter him from prying eyes. 

 

“The human. He is… strange,” is what Youngho chooses to say. 

 

Doyoung considers the words. “Most humans are boring and predictable, your Majesty. What makes the human so special?” 

 

“He is… stubborn. He has no sense of self-preservation at all. Sometimes it feels like I am speaking with a child. Other times it’s as though he’s older than me. What a conundrum.” 

 

There’s a smile curling at the corners of Doyoung’s lips. “You like him, your Majesty.” 

 

Youngho scoffs, eyebrows pulling together in a frown. “Of course I like him. He would be dead if I did not.” Doyoung fixes him with a flat look. Youngho sighs. “He challenges me. It is a new feeling.” Youngho means this seriously. Being a vampire of his status meant getting what he wanted with a single look. Everyone was afraid of him, for a good reason. However, Taeyong did not have such instinct. 

 

“He’s also beautiful,” Doyoung supplies. Youngho’s frown deepens. 

 

“I didn’t notice,” he says, looking out the window, watching the scenery go by in a blur. It is a lie and Doyoung knows it. Taeyong is too beautiful to be human. If Youngho didn’t know any better, he would have assumed Taeyong was an immortal like him. He certainly looked that way, face peaceful in sleep. He looked rather perfect in Youngho’s bed, far too ethereal. It had taken a great deal of Youngho’s willpower to leave in the morning. 

 

“Of course you didn’t, your Majesty.” 

 

Youngho’s phone buzzes, and he smiles involuntarily at the slew of angry message notifications from Taeyong. He presses down on the power button until the screen goes black, because he won’t be able to focus on his work if his thoughts keep straying to Taeyong. 

 

Beautiful, silly, stubborn Taeyong. 

 

\--

 

_ “--And then Mark, this dumbass, he just  _ locks _ us both out of the room. I didn’t have my room key because he said he had it and then right after we close the door he realizes he doesn’t have it and by then it’s like two in the morning and the main office is closed and it’s about to start snowing and oh my god I really wanted to kill him.”  _

 

Taeyong grins as he putters around the kitchen, listening to Donghyuck ramble about his college misadventures with his roommate Mark. The apartment was terribly quiet without Donghyuck in it, filling the space with his jokes, his singing, his video games, so Taeyong has him on speakerphone to restore some semblance of normalcy. 

 

He relishes his phone calls with his younger brother, though they’re becoming more and more infrequent, since Donghyuck had decided to get as involved in school as possible. Maybe he saw how Taeyong had kept to himself all of college and decided the wallflower life was not for him. 

 

_ “Oh, by the way, I got a job! It’s only a part-time thing for now, but--” _

 

“No, Donghyuck, absolutely not.” Taeyong’s voice comes out harsher than he’d wanted. He can practically  _ hear  _ Donghyuck’s scowl over the phone. 

 

_ “Why not? It’ll help with the bills. I’m in college, I know this is expensive. You’re working your ass off and I’m not making it any easier so let me just do this, okay? Why won’t you ever let me work?”  _

 

“I got a new job,” Taeyong blurts. Donghyuck is quiet over the line. “It pays… a lot better. Uhm. So don’t worry about the finances. It’s taken care of. You shouldn’t be working, Duckie.” He hates the idea of Donghyuck working, when he needs to prioritize school and his studies.

 

_ “Where are you working?” _ The distrust is clear in Donghyuck’s voice, and Taeyong tries to keep himself from trembling. He hates lying to his brother, but if Donghyuck knew Taeyong was willingly going to a vampire and letting him drink his blood… Taeyong doesn’t want to know what Donghyuck would do. 

 

“It’s… I’m kinda like a personal assistant? The guy is super rich so my salary is good. And it works well with my school schedule too. It’s actually really nice. So don’t worry.” 

 

_ “Okay… I’m glad then. I’m still gonna work though.” _

 

“Donghyuck Lee, what did I just--”

 

_ “Tralalala I can’t hear you! Suddenly the connection is really bad? Can you hear me? I can’t hear you!” _

 

“Donghyuck!” 

 

_ “Bye Taeyong I love you I hope you can hear this over the static. I’ll end the call now!” _

 

Taeyong stares at his phone in disbelief. Was this how Youngho felt when Taeyong refused to stop working? He groans and rests his forehead on the countertop. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Youngho? It had been almost two weeks and there was no word from the vampire about anything. 

 

It was stupid, but it worried Taeyong. He was a compulsive worrier, and constantly thought about how the important people in his life were doing. Youngho was arguably the most powerful vampire alive but Taeyong would pace back and forth in his living room in the mornings sometimes, hoping he was safe. 

 

For all Taeyong knew, Youngho’s trip might have been a boring business trip. But he couldn’t kid himself. Youngho Seo’s activities were taught in history classes, everyone knew what he was capable of, and that he dealt with a wide variety of situations, many of them including the execution of beings that deviated from the rules. 

 

Youngho was dangerous, skilled, and experienced beyond imagination, but Taeyong still worried.  _ Like a clingy boyfriend, _ his brain helpfully supplies. He’d read over their text conversations enough times to memorize them, because they amused him. Youngho is funny and surprising. He could send memes but he also still ended all his messages with a period and talked like he came out of a Jane Austen novel. 

 

Taeyong hopes he texts back soon.

 

Strange, silly, confusing Youngho. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if things in this au dont make sense, hopefully the next chapter will clear things up. it's a bit complicated, and best explained through the narrative rather than through a long winded explanation in the authors note. on a superficial level, this is a world much like the one we live in, except that supernatural beings live among humans in peaceful coexistence, with vampires (who are considered, evolutionarily, to be the most superior homonids) occupying the top of the hierarchy. more details to come as the story unfolds.  
> 


	2. dumb dumb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taeyong and youngho meet again

Taeyong gets a text three days later, at two in the morning. He thinks he might be hallucinating, because he’s had too many cups of coffee, and his biochemistry notes are blurring together. 

 

Truthfully, Taeyong can’t be sure Youngho is just a figment of his imagination. That the handsome vampire and their ridiculous agreement was just a construction in his mind. There are of course, several reasons why it couldn’t possibly be a dream. 

 

The first is Yuta Nakamoto, who on top of being manipulative and stubborn, is also invasive, and asks Taeyong about Youngho every time they see each other. Taeyong just shrugs and says he’s away on business. 

 

The second is the alarmingly large amount of money that is still sitting in his checking account, untouched. Taeyong is still working at the coffee shop, and he isn’t going to use the money until he and Youngho sit down and talk about this. 

 

The third and final reason is the dark, blooming bruise on his neck, right over his carotid artery. It looks like a hickey, and Taeyong has had to invest in BB cream so that it doesn’t look like he just came out of a wild night out. It is also a matter of huge inconvenience, too, that every time Taeyong so much as brushes his fingers against the skin, his whole body flushes with arousal. He doesn’t want to ask Youngho about it. 

 

**From: Youngho**

**Hello Taeyong thank you for the 42 messages which I will now ignore.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Oh so NOW your phone is working??**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Silly human. I told you I would turn it off.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**://///////**

**You suck**

 

**From: Youngho**

**I do, in fact, suck.**

**Your blood, to be specific.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**GIVE ME ONE REASON WHY I SHOULDN’T BLOCK YOUR NUMBER RIGHT NOW**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Because you enjoy our instant messaging conversations and also I am handsome.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Your age has made you delusional**

 

**From: Youngho**

**You’re terribly mean.**

**Are you always like this at 2 in the morning?**

**Speaking of which, why are you awake at 2 in the morning?**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Why are YOU awake at 2 in the morning?**

**I’m studying**

**Biochem**

**My worst enemy**

 

**From: Youngho**

**You couldn’t study at a more reasonable hour?**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**This IS a reasonable hour**

**I had to go to lecture and work**

 

**From: Youngho**

**We need to discuss that.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Yeah we do :/**

 

**From: Youngho**

**I would like to see you as soon as is convenient.**

**When can we meet?**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Tomorrow’s Sunday so no class only work**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Technically, today is Sunday**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Okay, smartass**

**What i meant to say is**

**I can meet now if you want**

 

**From: Youngho**

**That works for me.**

**I am concerned about your sleep schedule.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Don’t you have more pressing things to be concerned about?????**

 

**From: Youngho**

**I will send a car.**

 

\--

 

“Wow, you look like shit,” is the first thing Taeyong says to Youngho, who is leaning over the marble countertop of his ostensibly large kitchen, swirling what looks like hard liquor in a glass. His hair is unstyled, hanging a little over one eye. When he stands up straight, Taeyong sees the bruising under Youngho’s eyes. His maternal instincts are on overdrive, but he tamps them down. 

 

Despite his clearly worn-down state, Youngho manages a wry smile. “I am a man of many faces. Nice to see you too, Taeyong.” 

 

Taeyong purses his lips and steps closer to Youngho, reaching up to brush his fingers against the bags under Youngho’s eyes. He doesn’t know what compels him to do this, but Youngho doesn’t so much as flinch. 

 

“Careful,” Youngho murmurs, grasping Taeyong’s wrist in a firm grip. “I haven’t fed since I saw you, and you smell…” Youngho tilts his head, eyes flashing red, and sweeps his gaze down Taeyong’s body, like a predator sizing up his prey. Taeyong shivers. “Intoxicating.” 

 

“You haven’t fed in two weeks?” Taeyong ask incredulously. “Don’t you have like… blood bags and stuff?” 

 

Youngho raises an eyebrow. “Blood bags and stuff.” 

 

Taeyong huffs, tugging his hand away. “You know what I mean.” 

 

Youngho hums, eyes still piercing as he looks over Taeyong’s face. “Why would I drink from blood bags when I can feed from you? Isn’t that the whole point of this arrangement?” 

 

“But isn’t it kind of stupid to wait this long?” Taeyong knew the bare minimum about vampires, but he’d started doing his research. According to most sources, vampires needed to feed at least once every two weeks, if they drank a sufficient amount previously. Youngho had barely taken anything the first time. 

 

“Thus why I came back,” Youngho says, as though it’s the most obvious thing. Taeyong rolls his eyes. “We have some disputes to settle. But first, may I?” Youngho reaches up as though to Taeyong’s neck, but stops just short of touching his skin. Taeyong tries not to feel disappointed. “It’s a bit hard to concentrate at the moment.” 

 

“Huh?” Taeyong swallows. “Yeah. Of course.” 

 

In a blur of movement, Taeyong finds himself hoisted onto the kitchen island. He yelps in surprise, grappling at Youngho’s shoulders. “This will probably be more comfortable for both of us.” Taeyong blinks at Youngho, who steps between his legs and into his space, faces only inches apart.

 

At the back of his mind, Taeyong laments the fact that even with his new leverage, he’s eye-to-eye with Youngho, that despicable giant. His body radiates warmth, and he smells of the same cologne and clean linen as last time. In a large lapse of judgement, his eyes slip down to the soft, pink curve of Youngho’s mouth, and his heart splutters. He looks up immediately. 

 

“Is this okay?” Youngho asks, ignorant to Taeyong’s current predicament. 

 

“It’s fine,” Taeyong breathes, keeping his eyes resolutely above Youngho’s head. 

 

“You don’t seem fine. Did I scare you?” 

 

Despite his efforts, Taeyong’s eyes drop down to meet Youngho’s gaze. He shakes his head. “I’m great. Just… do what you have to do.” 

 

Youngho doesn’t respond, instead prying one of Taeyong’s hands from his shoulder to thread their fingers together. “I’ll try not to take too much, but squeeze twice if you want me to stop,” he says gently. By the time he leans in, Taeyong is already baring his neck. 

 

He’s even more sensitive this time around, and he tries his best not to make a noise when Youngho runs his nose over the skin, inhaling deeply, as though he’s savoring the scent. Then, there is a moment of blinding pain, before Taeyong’s body is flooded again with that addictive, velvety feeling. 

 

Youngho makes a noise at the back of his throat, something like an appreciative groan, and Taeyong positively thrums with satisfaction. He could have never imagined himself in a situation where he felt proud of himself because his blood tasted good to a vampire, but he finds himself unbothered by the revelation. 

 

Youngho doesn’t feed for more than a minute and a half before he stops, licking at the puncture wounds and pulling away. Taeyong’s head is pounding, like he’d drank too much, but he feels light, energized. He smiles softly at Youngho, who looks in much better shape than before. There’s more color on his skin, the eye bags are gone, and his eyes are a warm brown. 

 

“Are you alright?” Youngho asks, licking his lips, and Taeyong is unfazed by the fact that it is  _ his _ blood on Youngho’s teeth and tongue. If anything, it makes him feel… powerful. 

 

“I’m great,” Taeyong says, sounding a little winded. “You?” 

 

“I have never been better.” Youngho steps away, and Taeyong almost pouts, missing having his body close, but catches himself just in time. “I’ll get you some juice.” 

 

Taeyong watches Youngho walk over to the fridge and rustle through it. “Do you have fruit punch?” Youngho pulls his face out to look at Taeyong in disgust. 

 

“Fruit punch tastes like medieval poison. How dare you even ask? As though I would make space in my refridgerator for the devil’s drink.” 

 

Taeyong shoots Youngho a disbelieving look. “Did three thousand years fry your taste buds?” 

 

“Technically speaking, I’m two thousand eight hundred eighty five,” Youngho mumbles, sticking his face back in the fridge. He lets out a small  _ aha, _ before closing the fridge and coming back to Taeyong. 

 

“No fruit punch, but I found grape.” 

 

Taeyong takes the juice, sticking the straw in. “It’ll do for now.” He takes a sip. “But just saying, if we’re going to keep doing this--” He motions between the two of them. “You should start stocking up on fruit punch.” 

 

Youngho laughs. “Oh really? Should I also pick up some caviar, your Majesty?” 

 

Taeyong rolls his eyes and ignores him in favor of finishing his juice. Youngho hadn’t taken much blood, maybe even less than the first time. He makes a mental note to ask Youngho to feed again soon. He can’t possibly have had enough. 

 

“We should probably talk now,” Youngho says, taking Taeyong’s empty juice box and tossing it into the trash bin. Taeyong nods, and hops down from off the counter. His knees buckle immediately, and in a split second, Youngho has his hands around him, holding him up.    
  


“Careful there,” Youngho murmurs, and he’s far too close for Taeyong’s mental well-being. “Do you want me to carry you?” 

 

Taeyong pushes Youngho away. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Youngho frowns at him and keeps his hands on Taeyong’s arms, as though he’s afraid Taeyong might flop over. “Will you stop worrying? You didn’t even take that much. It’s just been a long day.” 

 

“Alright…” Youngho says reluctantly. He takes Taeyong’s hand and leads him slowly through several hallways before stopping in a spacious room that looks much like a Victorian parlor. The walls are lined with shelves of books, much like in Youngho’s study. There are several large sofas around the room with no rhyme or reason. There’s a crackling fire in a corner, and Youngho sits Taeyong down in front of it. 

 

“This is my private sitting room,” he explains, settling down next to him. 

 

Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “Sitting room? Do you have a standing room too?” 

 

“You should drop out of medical school and become a comedian.” Youngho says flatly, and Taeyong fights back a grin. 

 

They stare at the crackling fire for a minute before Taeyong speaks up. “I tried to do research on Blood Singers.” Youngho hums. “There was like… nothing. Are you sure you’re not just making stuff up?” 

 

Youngho raises a single well-groomed eyebrow. “Why would I make things up?” Taeyong shrugs. “Blood Singers are so rare these days that I doubt even younger vampires would know about them. There were many a thousand years ago… but like I told you the first day we met, my kind hunted them to near extinction. Vampires are greedy and have no real sense of foresight. They come across a human that smells better than normal and their instinct is to kill.” 

 

Youngho’s voice sounds a little bitter, and Taeyong can’t help but feel like he’s fed up with his kind. Taeyong wouldn’t blame him, especially given how involved Youngho supposedly is in all the politics. Vampires were supposed to be the most superior, highest evolved organisms in the world, yet they were messy, power-hungry, and generally slave to their instincts. It was a miracle that the world had turned out the way it currently was, with a delicate balance allowing humans and other Supernaturals to coexist peacefully, though even  _ that _ was reached through a bloody war. 

 

“I wouldn’t be surprised that you didn’t find anything on Google.” Youngho’s smile is reserved, but warm nonetheless.

 

“I can’t be the only one, right?” 

 

Youngho shakes his head. “I doubt it. But you are the only one I’ve met in many centuries. I have spent quite a lot of time trying to understand how and why your kind exist.” 

 

Taeyong frowns, picking at a loose thread in the upholstery. “I thought about it too. My guess is that it’s a recessive gene. If Blood Singers were decimated over time, it’s sort of like a bottleneck effect. The gene disappears physically, but not genotypically. There are probably a lot of carriers out there, but the physiology of it wouldn’t manifest because you would need two recessive alleles in one person, and the probability of that is--” He pauses his rambling when he notices Youngho staring at him with an unreadable glint in his eyes. “-- very low.” 

 

It takes a moment for Youngho to respond. “Genetics is a subject I’ve not had the privilege of looking into. It’s rather recent of a development.” 

 

Taeyong purses his lips. “It’s like… two hundred years old.” 

 

Youngho grins. “Recent on my timeline, anyway.” Taeyong snorts. “You seem to know a lot about it.” 

 

“I worked in a genetics lab in college. That and molecular bio were my favorite subjects in undergrad.” Taeyong looks at his lap. “I really loved research.” 

 

“Why did you pursue medicine instead?” 

 

Taeyong laughs, and he hates that he sounds bitter. “There’s little money to be made in research right away. I can’t possibly sustain myself and Donghyuck on a grad student’s salary.” 

 

“Donghyuck is your brother, correct?” 

 

Taeyong smiles at the mention of him. “Yes. He’s away at uni right now. The apartment feels very empty without him.” 

 

“You love him a lot.” It’s not a question. 

 

“More than anything,” Taeyong says earnestly, and that makes Youngho smile. “He’s very… stubborn, though.”

 

“It runs in the family, then.” 

 

Taeyong huffs a laugh. “Just because I don’t want to stop working--”

 

Youngho becomes serious very quickly. “You have to understand why I ask this of you, Taeyong.” 

 

“Well I don’t understand.” 

 

Youngho sighs. “I looked over your school transcripts--”

 

“You looked at my  _ grades? _ ” Taeyong hisses. 

 

Youngho shoots him an incredulous look. “Of course I did. Do you think you would have been allowed within five miles of my residence if I hadn’t done a full background check into every aspect of your current life? It was a safety precaution.” 

 

Taeyong crosses his arms and presses his lips into a thin line, put out because Youngho makes sense but that doesn’t make him feel any less embarrassed. 

 

“As I was saying-- I was reading over your transcript.” 

 

“And you now know about my abysmal, below-average grades,” Taeyong says flatly. 

 

Youngho rolls his eyes. “To my understanding, getting  _ into _ medical school is a feat on its own. You had a near-perfect score on the MCAT. You are not stupid, Taeyong. Nothing about you is below-average.” The conviction with which Youngho says this makes Taeyong unable to meet his gaze, so he stares resolutely into the fire. 

 

“When I thought about it, your grades reflected someone who was not below-average. It reflected the performance of someone who is spread far too thin and struggling. Trying to keep your head above the water in every aspect of your life means that you cannot put all your effort and energy into any one thing, so everything suffers.”

 

And Taeyong has nothing to say to that. Was that not the exact reason why he refused to let Donghyuck work in high school, and hated the idea of him working even now, in college? 

 

“If you don’t have to worry about finances, then you can put more of your time into what matters, which is finishing your schooling. You’re far too intelligent for this. Working at that godforsaken coffee shop may seem alright now, but it’s a detriment to your school life, and that will hurt you in the long term. If you truly want to be financially independent, please let me help you for now. Then, when you’re a successful doctor and you’re making enough money to support yourself, I won’t meddle. Much.” 

 

It takes a minute for Taeyong to process Youngho’s words. They’re nothing but genuine and completely selfless, but he can’t help the way suspicion rears its ugly head. “Why do you even care about that?” Taeyong asks. It feels almost cruel, how kind Youngho is. 

 

Taeyong had been fourteen when his parents died in a car accident. He’d been bounced from foster home to foster home, struggling to keep Donghyuck by his side. They considered themselves lucky when their foster parents neglected them. Fortune was usually not on their side. 

 

When Taeyong had been emancipated, he’d adopted Donghyuck quickly, and it had been an uphill battle for the last four and a half years. He was lucky that Donghyuck, while a brat, was easy to raise. He supposed the trauma had matured them both beyond their years. 

 

To have Youngho wanting to help this way felt almost too easy, like a cheat. There was the fact that Taeyong was to be at his beck and call for blood, but even in that regard Youngho was respectful and understanding. For the millionth time, Taeyong wishes Youngho could be more cruel, act more like what Taeyong imagines a powerful, time-worn vampire to behave like. 

 

Youngho can clearly read the conflict in Taeyong’s eyes, and he smiles. “I value you. Not just because of the arrangement. But…” For the first time since they met, Youngho hesitates. “I’d like it if we could become friends.” 

 

Taeyong doesn’t know how to react to that confession. He feels heat prickle at the back of his neck. “Why?” 

 

“I don’t know what you might have assumed about my life, but it’s rather lonely. My line of work makes it impossible to confide in my kind. Ironically, you are the only one who treats me like a normal person, rather than Youngho Seo, the Enforcer, the Ancient, or whatever other ridiculous title you tack onto my name. I’m tired of people being afraid of me. I never wanted to be feared.” 

 

Youngho frowns, as though the honesty of his words had surprised even him. Taeyong hadn’t considered how much Youngho might have gone through to be where he is today, and how that might give him more complexity than Taeyong initially gave him credit for. 

 

“You don’t have to buy my friendship, Youngho,” Taeyong says softly, reaching to place a comforting hand on the vampire’s thigh. “I’d be glad to be your friend regardless of everything else.” And Taeyong finds himself sincerely meaning it. Maybe their relationship is unconventional, but Youngho makes him laugh, challenges him to be better, and seems to genuinely care about his well being. 

 

Youngho positively beams at that, putting his own hand over Taeyong’s and squeezing gently. Taeyong’s heart splutters stupidly at how youthful Youngho looks in that moment, how unburdened, just from something Taeyong said. 

 

“Then, as your friend, please let me take care of you until you’re on your feet. I want you to be healthy and thriving, not drowning and overwhelmed.” 

 

Taeyong sighs, and his shoulders go limp, as though suddenly the weight of everything he’d been carrying is lifted.

 

“Okay.” 

 

\--

 

Despite what Yuta always says, he is not, in fact, Taeyong’s only friend. He may be the closest, the one that Taeyong willingly allows to witness his disaster of a life, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t talk to other people. 

 

Taeyong met Ten and Jaehyun in one of his anatomy labs at the beginning of the year. They’d bonded through mutual distress from their course load, and had spent many late nights in the library, fending off the anxiety of upcoming exams. 

 

Jaehyun was a shifter who could turn into a snow leopard if he was aggravated enough, but mostly acted like a small kitten, and enjoyed having his hair petted. Ten was a human like Taeyong, but he might as well have been a pixie, with his penchant for causing mischief. Currently, he was trying to convince Taeyong to go clubbing. 

 

“It’ll be a good way to celebrate!” he says, renewing his efforts to convince Taeyong after their last lecture of the day had ended. “It’ll be after our last round of exams before break, and we can destress by getting drunk and dancing!” 

 

Taeyong looks at Jaehyun for help, but all he gets is a shrug. Traitor. “Is that really a good idea?” He’s never been clubbing before, and he didn’t want to start now. Even the mere idea of it makes his social anxiety spike. 

 

“Yes,” Ten says, with conviction. “We can get you all dressed up, maybe you’ll even get  _ laid, _ ” he sings, and Taeyong scoffs, whacking him in the shoulders. “Oh come on, TY. When’s the last time you got dick?” 

 

“You  _ don’t _ have to answer that,” Jaehyun says, shoving Ten, who squawks. “But you should really come, Taeyong. You never hang out with us.” 

 

Taeyong rubs his neck. He’d never been good with peer pressure, especially now that he didn’t have the excuse of work. “I’ll think about it,” he decides to say. It appeases his friends, who drop the topic as they walk through campus. 

 

“Are you working tonight?” Jaehyun asks. 

 

“Huh?” It takes Taeyong a second to process what Jaehyun’s asking. “Oh, the coffee shop. I actually… quit a few weeks ago.” 

 

Ten’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh no way? We thought you needed the money?” 

 

“Ten, you can’t just ask things like that,” Jaehyun says, exasperated, and smiles apologetically. “Sorry.” 

 

Taeyong smiles fondly and shakes his head. “It’s fine, no worries. I just…” How does he explain that Youngho Seo pays his bills? “I have... help now,” he chooses to say. 

 

It seems like the words aren’t vague enough for Ten, whose mind is far too sharp for Taeyong’s liking sometimes. “No way, like a sugar daddy?” 

 

“Ten!” Jaehyun says sharply. 

 

“What? That’s exactly what it sounds like!” 

 

Taeyong laughs nervously, waving his hands in a panic. “No, it’s really not like that. It’s just… hard to explain. Don’t worry about it.” 

 

Ten leans into Taeyong’s space, eyes narrowed. “But there is a  _ someone. _ ” It’s not a question, and Taeyong doesn’t really know how to respond to that. Yes, Youngho is a someone. But what kind of someone he is remains to be seen. Taeyong can’t lie right to Ten’s face like that, so he doesn’t say anything. “If you get hurt, just call Jaehyun. He’ll turn into that lion thing and beat people up.” 

 

“I’m a pacifist! And I’m a snow leopard, thanks,” Jaehyun huffs. 

 

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “That won’t be necessary. I promise.” If Youngho and Jaehyun ever got into a fight, there would be a very clear winner. “It’s not what you think. So don’t worry.” 

 

Ten narrows his eyes, clearly unsatisfied with Taeyong’s evasiveness. He was the kind of person who knew all the gossip on campus, who was dating who, which people didn’t pass their Boards, and all sorts of other details that Taeyong frankly didn’t have time for, but it was as though Ten fed off that energy. 

 

“Anyways,” Jaehyun drawls, trying to deflate the situation. “Ten and I are heading over to Starbucks to study, you wanna join us? Now that you’re not working and all.” 

 

“I wish I could,” Taeyong smiles apologetically, seeing a familiar black Mercedes idling in the parking lot. “But I’m actually meeting someone right now, so I have to go. Maybe another time?” 

 

Jaehyun smiles and nods, while Ten smirks. “Meeting someone, huh? Your sugar--  _ ow, Jaehyun-- _ ” Ten sputters as Jaehyun drags him away by the collar of his shirt. “You’re not getting out of clubbing TY! I won’t let you slip through my fingers!” 

 

Taeyong laughs at his friends’ theatrics, waving to them until they disappear around the corner, before making his way over to the car. The driver opens the door for him, and he thanks him before ducking inside the back. As he slides in, he’s surprised to see Doyoung sitting inside as well, frowning at his phone. 

 

“Hello, Taeyong,” the vampire says, not taking his eyes off the screen. 

 

“Oh, hi Doyoung.” Taeyong commends himself for not stuttering. He’d only met Doyoung a handful of times, usually running around Youngho’s house-castle like a headless chicken and looking like he’s constantly under an immeasurable amount of stress. Taeyong had never been alone with him, and it makes him nervous. 

 

It’s ironic that Youngho’s secretary intimidates him more than Youngho himself. But then, Youngho is  _ Youngho, _ who is goofy and a little stupid and has recently been spending too much time on Urban Dictionary ( _ “Taeyong, I found out what bae means!” _ ). Doyoung is always wearing a Bluetooth headpiece and looks like he’s plotting bloody murder (maybe he is, Taeyong doesn’t want to assume). 

 

“Did you want to talk to me about something?” Taeyong asks. 

 

Doyoung looks up then, staring at Taeyong blankly. “Oh, no, not at all. I happened to be in the area and offered to pick you up, rather than having another car sent all the way.” 

 

“Oh, that's nice of you.” Taeyong smiles but it goes unnoticed by Doyoung who is furiously tapping at his phone screen.

 

It's silent for a minute, as Taeyong builds up the courage to speak again. It's about a thirty minute drive from his campus to Youngho’s estate, and he wants to try and cut the awkward tension between him and Doyoung, though the vampire seems perpetually displeased about Taeyong’s presence. Then again, Doyoung looks displeased about everything, and Taeyong is probably no exception. 

 

“Do you… have a lot of work to do?” Taeyong tries. Doyoung looks up from his phone with a raised eyebrow. Taeyong clears his throat. “Just… You always seem so busy.” 

 

“I am the secretary of one of the most important political figures in the contemporary world. Busy would be an understatement.”

 

Taeyong laughs nervously. “Oh yeah… That's right.” It's too easy to forget Youngho’s status and power when he sends memes in the middle of the night and debates the merits of creamy versus chunky peanut butter. 

 

Taeyong must be hallucinating, because the corners of Doyoung’s lips seems to curl up, like he's going to smile. Even just the thought of it is absurd. “Do you truly know the extent of what Youngho does, Taeyong?” 

 

“Not really.” In the last month and a half it seemed like Taeyong couldn't keep his mouth shut about his life, like a faucet that had been turned on. Youngho seemed to enjoy his anecdotes, but was very careful about how much he personally divulged. If Taeyong hadn't been paying attention in countless history classes, he might have been able to fool himself into thinking Youngho was a human like him-- a weird human, but mortal nonetheless. Youngho was both an open book and a complete mystery. 

 

“He never really seems like he wants to talk about it,” Taeyong confesses. 

 

“I think he doesn't want to scare you away.” 

 

Taeyong blinks at Doyoung in disbelief. The idea of Youngho having insecurities, of fearing Taeyong’s judgement, seems surreal. But Taeyong knows how much Youngho values their odd friendship, how dearly he cherishes their time, if his continual efforts and kindness are anything to go by. 

 

“That's a bit stupid considering the circumstances.”

 

Doyoung smiles fully this time, and it makes Taeyong nervous. He's not sure smiling suits Doyoung, who looks like an evil villain out of a movie. Briefly, Taeyong wonders how long it’s been since Doyoung actually felt amused or happy. 

 

“You will find that common sense does not necessarily come with time.” 

 

\--

 

“Oh for _fuck_ _ ’s _ sake,” Doyoung curses when their car pulls into the winding driveway. Taeyong looks at him in alarm, then out the window, where a slew of black cars and a limousine are parked. Did Youngho have guests over? 

 

Taeyong doesn’t have time to ask, because the moment their car comes to a stop, Doyoung is shooting out of it, becoming a blur as he utilizes his supernatural speed to disappear into Youngho’s home. 

 

“Fucking hell,” Taeyong mumbles, not knowing how to proceed. He doesn’t want to loiter around outside, because he’ll feel like an idiot, but he doesn’t want to go inside and intrude on something, especially if it was serious. However, Youngho would never let Taeyong anywhere near his home if there was some sort of danger. 

 

Using that logic as justification, Taeyong squares his shoulders and walks inside, congratulating himself for wearing his nice jeans. 

 

He doesn’t get more than three steps inside the foyer before he bolts through an adjoining hallway, hiding, because standing in the space are men in suits and sunglasses who look like stereotypical bodyguards, a man who looks an awful lot like the current vampire king, and a very furious Youngho looming over him. 

 

“Just because you are the king does  _ not _ mean you are above the law,” Youngho spits out. “If you do not come forward with names, I will eliminate every single member of your clan.” Youngho steps forward, smile laced with venom, and the vampire king stumbles back. “I’m certain you can guess who will be saved for last.”

 

Taeyong’s body quivers from the force of Youngho’s voice. He’d never seen the vampire so furious, so powerful and loud. His presence fills up the space to the point where it’s almost suffocating. 

 

“Y-you wouldn’t dare hurt me,” the vampire king, who Taeyong belatedly remembers is named Eunjae, stammers, looking ready to fall to the ground, but puts up a false sense of bravado that only seems to anger Youngho further. 

 

“You vile, insolent,  _ idiot. _ ” Taeyong’s eyes all but pop out of their sockets as Youngho grabs Eunjae by the throat and lifts him up off the ground. Eunjae lets out a choked noise, grappling feebly at Youngho’s fingers. 

 

“ _ Guards-- _ ” Eunjae wheezes, and Taeyong watches in amazement as the bodyguards do not budge. 

 

Youngho raises an immaculate eyebrow, eyes still swimming with fury. “You forget who they really work for.” Eunjae jerks in Youngho’s hold. “You forget who  _ you _ work for. And how easy it will be for me to get rid of you,” Youngho grits, before letting go of Eunjae. 

 

The vampire king’s body crumples to the ground, and he gasps for breath. “You are just a puppet. It was my mistake thinking you’d be a decent one. We had a deal, didn’t we? You do what I say, and I let you have your indulgences, as long as they are in accordance with the law. Did you think I’d forget?” 

 

Youngho crouches down next to Eunjae’s body and shoves at it. “Answer me, pest.” 

 

“N-no, your Majesty,” Eunjae whimpers.

 

Youngho sighs, face twisted in disgust. He straightens up and turns to Doyoung. “Get him to tell you the names, then get rid of him. We’ll have to decide who to replace him with soon.” 

 

Before Youngho can say anything else, Eunjae begins cackling. Taeyong winces; it’s a reedy, uncomfortable sound, punctuated by coughs. “You’re a hypocrite, your Majesty.” 

 

Youngho whips around so quickly that Taeyong barely sees it with his human vision. “What did you say?” 

 

“I can… smell the human, your Majesty. And he’s a Blood Singer, no less.” Youngho’s eyes shoot to where Taeyong is peaking through the corridor, and Taeyong shoots back to hide, plastering himself against the wall.  _ Dammit. _

 

“Unlike with you and your disgusting acquaintances, the human is here on his own terms, and it is perfectly legal. Do you think I would still be here if I did not practice what I preached?” There’s a clack of shoes against tile. 

 

Taeyong’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest, and he hears a sickening  _ crunch _ of what could only be bone. He squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to calm down. So this is what Youngho did. How could Taeyong reconcile this version of Youngho with the one he knows? 

 

His mind is racing so quickly that he doesn’t notice that Youngho has appeared in front of him, calling his name. “Taeyong,” Youngho murmurs, his hands coming up to cup Taeyong’s cheeks and stroke across them soothingly. Taeyong’s eyes shoot open and he meets Youngho’s own, and there’s nothing but calm there, containing none of the malice and wrath they held minutes ago. 

 

“Your Majesty, it was my fault, I should have taken him somewhere--” Doyoung joins Youngho in front of Taeyong, looking frazzled. 

 

“It’s alright, Doyoung. Please go get rid of Eunjae. I’ll handle this,” Youngho says evenly, his warm gaze never leaving Taeyong. 

 

Doyoung looks ready to protest, but sighs, bowing his head quickly before walking away, no doubt to clean up whatever mess was made in the foyer. Unless Youngho was so experienced that he knew how to kill without any necessary clean up? 

 

“...Taeyong, I can  _ hear _ you over thinking.” 

 

“Are you a mind reader now, too?” Taeyong snaps back before he can help it, the current situation be damned. 

 

The corner of Youngho’s lips quirk up. “No, but I can see it in your eyes. I’m sorry you had to see that. Why don’t we go somewhere else and I can explain?” 

 

“That would be… lovely.” Taeyong swallows thickly, hoping that his knees will support his body when he takes a step. 

 

Youngho keeps a steady grip on Taeyong’s arm as they walk through the maze of hallways, as if he’s afraid Taeyong might bolt if he lets go. They’re shrouded in silence, and Taeyong cannot be assed to make small talk after what he’d just witnessed. 

 

Taeyong finds himself led into the same room he’d woken up in his first night, and he recognizes it as Youngho’s own bedroom now. Youngho helps him sit on the bed and pours him a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand. 

 

“Thanks,” Taeyong murmurs, taking the glass with shaky hands. 

 

“I am sincerely so sorry you had to see that,” Youngho says, sitting down next to Taeyong. “I hoped you never would. Eunjae took me by surprise.” 

 

The remorse is very clear in Youngho’s voice, and Taeyong’s heart stirs with sympathy. He sets the water down on the table. “What happened back there?” 

 

There’s a minute of silence. Taeyong can tell Youngho is thinking his words through carefully, so he stays quiet by his side. Youngho sighs after a while, taking Taeyong’s hand in his. Taeyong’s heart skips a beat at the easy skinship, and he squeezes supportively. In the back of his mind, he wonders why he’s offering comfort to a vampire who had just killed another without so much as blinking. The answer is easy: because it’s Youngho.

 

“This balance that we vampires have come to with humans was not without difficulty, as I’m sure you’ve been taught in school.” Taeyong hums his assent. The reason their society could exist as it does was due to a centuries-long war, ended by a peace treaty. “When I drafted the treaty--”

 

“Wait,  _ you _ drafted the peace treaty?” Taeyong blurts out, eyes wide. Youngho frowns at him. 

 

“Yes, is that a surprise?” Taeyong ponders that for a moment, and considers what he knows about Youngho and his influence. And then, Taeyong thinks about how unerringly kind Youngho is to him. He was a man with strong principles, clearly. Youngho couldn’t have drafted the most important document of all time if he didn’t believe fully in his cause.

 

“I… guess not.” 

 

“As I was saying,” Youngho drawls, shooting Taeyong a look of mock annoyance. “When I drafted the treaty, I was frustrated with the state the world had come to. I was conceived in more peaceful times. As my life progressed, my kind became more greedy than ever, and it was destroying the very fabric of life.” 

 

Taeyong could only imagine. His teachers in school had stressed the horrors and atrocities committed by vampires in their quest for blood. Humans had nearly been wiped out, and vampires were turning to other Supernaturals as a less-ideal source of blood. The death toll was staggering. 

 

“My kind needed to be put in its place. We needed to reach a compromise, to have peace, to protect everyone. And it worked, for the most part.” Youngho smiles ruefully. “One thing vampires hate more than anything is to be restricted.” 

 

“The king?” Taeyong supplies. 

 

“Eunjae, that basic bitch,” Youngho says bitterly, and Taeyong can’t help the startled laugh that leaves his throat. He slaps a hand over his mouth and grins apologetically. Youngho looks at him sheepishly? “I didn’t use that correctly, did I?” 

 

Taeyong shakes his head. “No, sorry.” 

 

Youngho sighs. “I need to work on that. Internet lexicon is fine in theory. The execution is a little… shaky.” 

 

“You’ll get better,” Taeyong says, squeezing his hand sympathetically, unable to keep the silly smile off his face. 

 

“As I was saying. Eunjae.” Youngho’s smile falls away. “He and a few members of the council have been running some sort of… underground human trafficking network.” 

 

Taeyong gasps in horror, the previous amusement gone. “It’s as though all these measures I’d taken, the strictness with which I’d enforced these rules didn’t matter. They were killing humans for their pleasure, with no guilt.” 

 

Youngho runs his free hand through his hair, a habit he exhibited whenever he was frustrated. “I had one of his advisors executed. Eunjae felt brave enough to come to my home, demanding an explanation.” 

 

“I was planning on getting the names of everyone involved, but--” Now that Taeyong thinks about it, Youngho had only truly snapped once Eunjae mentioned Taeyong. He doesn’t know what to make of that. “My patience has a limit, I’m afraid.” 

 

“So how will you find out who’s involved with all this… stuff?” 

 

“I have eyes and ears all over the court. It would have been convenient to get it from the cockroach himself, but even with him gone, it is not impossible. Just a little more legwork. I  _ will _ end this.” 

 

Youngho’s conviction startles Taeyong and makes admiration bloom in his chest. “You’re a good person, Youngho,” he says sincerely. Youngho looks at him, eyebrows arched in disbelief. 

 

“That’s the first time I’ve been told that in my life,” Youngho admits. 

 

“That’s a shame. You deserve to hear it.” Somehow, this doesn’t surprise Taeyong. He smiles wryly and pats Youngho’s head. “Such a good boy,” he coos. How odd their relationship is. 

 

Youngho laughs. “Thank you, I try my best.” Taeyong fusses over him for a few more seconds, before Youngho looks at him, concerned. “But in all seriousness, how are you feeling? You’re not scared? I just killed someone.” 

 

“Um. Well.” Taeyong has to think about it for a moment. “I… I’m kinda shaken up? I mean someone just died like twenty feet away from me so I’ll need to process that one. I’m probably in shock.”

 

“But you’re not afraid of me?” Taeyong thinks he might be imagining the hint of vulnerability in Youngho’s voice. 

 

“There’s a lot going on, and it’s all much bigger than me, so I can’t exactly comment on your forms of uhm... justice and punishment. You’re also like two thousand eight hundred sixty three years older than me so I know you’ve seen and done some shit that I will probably never be able to comprehend, and that’s okay,” Taeyong rambles. 

 

“There’s a lot of stuff going on, and I know you have to do what you have to do in the name of the greater good and all that. I know I wouldn’t be able to handle it, but you can. And what really matters to me in the grand scheme of things is that we’re friends and we can feel safe around each other. Which I do. No matter what else you do on the side.” 

 

Taeyong takes a deep breath and looks at Youngho, hoping he understood what Taeyong was trying to convey. The situation was certainly morally grey, but Taeyong’s priority was Youngho, his friend and companion, not Youngho Seo, the royal. 

 

In response to Taeyong’s words, Youngho sighs, as though a large burden had been lifted off his shoulders. “Thank you, Taeyong,” he murmurs, kissing Taeyong’s hair. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but you already mean so much to me.” 

 

Taeyong suppresses the shiver of pleasure at having Youngho’s body pressed warmly against his. He will never get over the comfort and peace that washes over him whenever Youngho is physically nearby. “I feel the same way.” 

 

“You’re really not afraid?” Youngho asks, once more as if he could never truly be sure of Taeyong’s conviction. 

 

“There are a lot of things I’m afraid of.” Like finals, bills, Donghyuck’s penchant for getting into trouble. “You’re not one of them.” 

 

“Okay, I’m glad.” Youngho leans away to look at Taeyong, childlike glee shimmering in his eyes. “You’re my biffle, Taeyong.” 

 

Taeyong scrunches his face in confusion. “Your what?” 

 

Youngho grins, canines sharp gleaming. “My biffle. B-F-F-L. Best friend for life.” At that, Taeyong cackles, laughing so hard that he flops backwards into the bed. “Why? Did I not pronounce it right?” 

 

Taeyong gasps for breath before straightening up. Warmth blooms in his chest, constricting him with the force of his affection. He pats Youngho on the shoulder. “No, you’re fine. I’d love to be your biffle, Youngho.” 

 

\--

 

“Okay you keep smiling like an idiot at your phone, and in the name of friendship, you better tell me what it is,” Yuta snaps. Taeyong looks up from the screen, mouth still full of spaghetti. 

 

“Huh? I wasn’t.” 

 

His phone beeps with an incoming message. 

 

**From: Youngho**

**[video attached]**

 

He opens the attachment to see a video of Youngho using the puppy Snapchat filter, tongue sticking out. Taeyong had shown the app to him a week ago, much to the delight of the vampire. Now Taeyong had approximately one hundred selfies and videos saved to his phone. 

 

**I’m a good boy!**

 

“Did anyone ever tell you how ugly you look when you smile?” Yuta snides, before grabbing Taeyong’s phone from him. Taeyong yelps and grapples back for it, but Yuta’s too fast. “Oh  _ damn, _ is that Youngho?  _ Shit, _ he’s so hot what the fuck.” 

 

“What are you talking about,” Taeyong grumbles, tugging his phone back and cradling it to his chest. Youngho’s selfies were for his eyes only. 

 

“I’ll ignore the basic ass filter in favor of appreciating that Grade A piece of man cake.” Yuta wiggles his eyebrows salaciously. “If I were you, I would have climbed that like a tree by now.” 

 

“Shut up!” Taeyong splutters, cheeks staining red. “It’s not like that! He’s my friend!” 

 

Yuta leans forward across the table, fingers drumming together in front of him. “Do I detect some… disappointment in your tone?” 

 

Taeyong feels keenly like he might rupture a blood vessel from the sheer force of his embarrassment and desire to kick Yuta’s ass. “No! He’s my friend. He’s not… hot, or whatever.” Taeyong has always been a terrible liar. He’d stayed awake at night sometimes, replaying their encounters over and over again in his head. Youngho was stupid and embarrassing, but Taeyong was painfully aware of how attractive and charming he could be. 

 

Yuta’s face screws up. “Bitch, are you blind? Or are you just willfully ignorant?” 

 

Ignorance is bliss, but it is not a feeling Taeyong is lucky enough to experience when it comes to Youngho. 

 

“The faster you admit you like him, the faster you can get some dick,” Yuta says with no hesitation. Taeyong debates throwing his napkin at Yuta’s face, but then he would feel compelled to pick it up off the ground and throw it in the trash, which would reduce the action’s effectiveness. 

 

“You’re the second person who’s told me that in the last week,” Taeyong says. Yuta grins deviously. 

 

“Well then, this is a message from the heavens. Put yourself out there for once, it might be fun.” As if to elaborate his point, Yuta makes a motion disgustingly similar to a blow job, and Taeyong really does throw his napkin this time. 

 

“That’s literally the dumbest thing I’ve heard, and that means something, considering that everything that comes out of your mouth is shit.” Taeyong gets up to pick up the napkin and walks over to the trash bin. “Besides, he doesn’t even like me like that,” he mumbles. 

 

“Well I’ll be the judge of that.” Taeyong curses Yuta’s heightened sense of hearing. “Give me your phone.” 

 

“I would rather die.” 

 

Yuta rolls his eyes, sticking out his hand. “I’m just gonna read your messages. I’m good at picking up subliminal flirting. You’re dense as shit so you wouldn’t know someone’s hitting on you if they slapped you in the face.” 

 

Taeyong closes his eyes, counts to ten, takes a deep breath, and with great reluctance, hands his phone over. He starts clearing the table, because cleaning soothes him when he’s nervous, Yuta is a useless piece of shit who never helps with chores anyway, and his friend’s critical gaze as he scrolls through his text messages with Youngho makes him even more anxious. He hopes he hasn’t said anything incriminating, because he’s felt enough embarrassment today. 

 

By the time Yuta announces that he’s done, Taeyong has washed the dishes, the pots, swept the floor, and utilized his trusty Swiffer Wet Jet. “I have come to a conclusion from the given textual evidence. I am fairly certain of the accuracy.” He pauses for dramatic effect, and Taeyong motions impatiently for Yuta to get on with it. He doesn’t know why his heart is beating so fast. It’s not like Yuta’s words will mean anything substantial, anyway. 

 

“Oh god, Taeyong, he’s so into you,” Yuta says with a tenderness that Taeyong never thought him capable of. “You guys are like. Practically married. Hashtag relationship goals.” 

 

“Shut up,” Taeyong grumbles, taking his phone back, but he can’t hide the way his hands shake.  _ Yuta’s words don’t mean anything. _ Youngho has been nothing but kind and platonic. 

 

“He’s honestly like… so devoted to you? I’m super jealous, how can I get me a man like that? You know what this makes me? Cupid.”

 

“It’s really not like that.” Now that Yuta had forced him to face this situation, it’s hard to ignore the feelings that had been bubbling up inside of him all this time. He likes Youngho so much that it threatens to knock him breathless. “He doesn’t think of me that way.” 

 

“Why the hell not? You didn’t hear any of this from me, but you’re pretty great, Taeyong. He’d be an idiot not to like you.” He sighs. “Besides. It’s  _ Youngho Seo. _ I’m pretty sure he has better things to do than sit around sending a human selfies. Which is  _ why _ I’m sure he likes you. Actually no, I think he’s obsessed with you.”

 

“But he’s…  _ him. _ And I’m me. I’m a potato.” 

 

Yuta rolls his eyes so hard that it looks actually painful. “That’s fucking bull shit because I’ve been in your bathroom and I know you have a mirror, but  _ hypothetically, _ if you were a potato, have you tried maybe, I dunno.  _ Not _ being a potato?”

 

“I don’t even know what that means.” 

 

Yuta’s grin holds nothing but mischief, and Taeyong finds himself regretting ever letting Yuta through his door tonight. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a massive thank u to lynnie bun for beta'ing even w ur hectic schedule ur the real mvp  
> im trying to respond to all the comments as fast as possible, thank u to everyone who left sweet comments, they mean a lot n are super motivating!! <3  
> 


	3. stupid cupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> youngho is too obvious

“This is the third time you’ve sighed in the last minute. Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

 

Taeyong looks up from his abysmal biochemistry notes, spread haphazardly around Youngho’s massive table. If anyone were to ask, Taeyong would say there was a method to the madness. Truthfully, he’s just stressed. Taeyong had commandeered the desk when he came in, settling into the chair and doing his best smug impression. “I am the captain now,” he’d said in a low voice, and Youngho retreated to the couch with nothing but a fond smile.

 

“Have I?” Taeyong widens his eyes. Youngho arches a well-groomed eyebrow at him over the frames of his reading glasses.

 

(Taeyong had asked once whether vampires even needed glasses, to which Youngho replied that eyesight tended to wane after three millennia.)

 

(Taeyong doesn’t admit to himself that there’s something painfully handsome about the square frames and how they complement Youngho’s sharp features.)

 

“Yes, it’s a bit concerning. And I can’t concentrate.”

 

“Sorry,” Taeyong says sheepishly. Youngho puts down the papers he had previously been reading and takes off his glasses.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Taeyong pouts at his notes. “It’s… stupid. Not a big deal, really.”

 

Youngho frowns and stands up, strides over to Taeyong, and leans against the desk. Taeyong wishes he wouldn’t always try to be so close. His ability to function around attractive guys while being aware of the full force of his crush amounts to zero. “Well clearly it’s bothering you. You didn’t even attempt to say anything about the Pepe meme I made earlier.”

 

Taeyong purses his lips. “Okay, I can’t believe you photoshopped a selfie of me in the Reasons to Live thing. That’s reaching new heights of cheesy, even for you.”

 

Youngho grins, unabashed. “It’s true though.” He then points a finger right in Taeyong’s face. “And you’re deflecting.”

 

Taeyong closes his eyes and sighs. “It’s really not a big deal. You’re gonna think it’s stupid.”

 

“Well it’s not to you, is it?”

 

Taeyong curses Youngho for being so perceptive. He’d barged into Youngho’s home a couple hours ago without prompting, hoping that he could be more productive with company, and that he might have reprieve from his own spiraling thoughts.  

 

“I… was on a phone call with Donghyuck this morning.”

 

Youngho’s lips pull into a frown. “Is he alright?”

 

Taeyong waves his hand in dismissal. “He’s fine. Just… he’s not coming home for the holidays.”

 

“Why not? Doesn’t he miss you?”

 

“He does but… he has a lot going on. There’s apparently a lot of events happening during the winter and he can’t miss them. He promised he’d come back for spring break, though.” Taeyong tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

 

Youngho’s silent for a moment, processing. “Do you normally spend the holidays together?”

 

Taeyong nods, and he can’t help the fondness that swells up in his chest, thinking about the years of shared memories. “It’s always just been us two.”

 

“What do you normally do?”

 

“Oh… well. The first christmas after I adopted Donghyuck, we spent the night before Christmas decorating cookies and throwing tinsel all around the apartment.” Taeyong laughs, remembering the effort that went into cleaning up once it was over. “Donghyuck has this… amazing voice. So he would start singing carols the minute it was December. He’s so noisy but it’s a good thing. It fills up the space.”

 

“It must feel empty without him there, then.”

 

Taeyong sighs. “Yeah. The apartment feels too quiet now. I’m just disappointed that he doesn’t want to come home. It feels like I’m the only one missing him.”

 

“I’m sure that wasn’t his intention.”

 

“I know it’s not. It’s just how it feels.”

 

Youngho hums. “To my knowledge, college is a time of self-discovery. You meet new people, try new things, and you start developing a sense of self. It’s a bit addicting. Then home feels like the last place you want to be.”

 

Taeyong can’t really relate to that sentiment, because his life had always centered around taking care of Donghyuck. Self-discovery and introspection were foreign concepts to him. It often felt like he was just letting life happen to him without taking a moment to stop and think about what he liked and what he wanted.

 

But he could see how much fun Donghyuck was having. And he doesn’t want to hold him back. Wasn’t this always Taeyong’s goal? Make life as unhindered as he could for Donghyuck, so that he could go and reach his dreams?

 

“I’m honestly so happy he’s having a good time. It’s all I could ever want, really. Just…”

 

“You miss him,” Youngho supplies. “You’re lonely and that’s okay.”

 

“I just sort of… feel like I’m being left behind. I guess I’m low key having an existential crisis. Everything was always about Donghyuck, and now that he’s off doing things on his own, I’m not sure what to do with myself.”

 

“Well, you are allowed to have your own life, independent of him. Especially now that he’s forging his own path. It’s time for you to do the same. Figure out who you are, on your own terms.” Youngho smiles sincerely, devoid of any pity, and that is something Taeyong is always grateful for. It’s easy to confide in the vampire when he listens without judgement.

 

“I don’t even know where to start,” Taeyong admits.

 

“I think you should start by putting yourself out there more. Spend time with friends, pick up a hobby that doesn’t involve hanging out with a crusty old vampire.”

 

“But I love spending time with you,” Taeyong says so quickly and with a conviction that’s almost embarrassing. Youngho seems to be taken aback by his outburst as well, if his disbelieving look is anything to go by. Taeyong clears his throat and wills the blush on his cheeks to go away. “And you’re not crusty,” he mumbles.

 

“Well I… I appreciate the sentiment.” Taeyong blinks rapidly, because for the first time, Youngho looks… flustered? “But perhaps you should also make time for others. I would hate to monopolize your time.”

 

“Well I make the choice to spend time with you, so you’re not monopolizing my time, I promise.” Taeyong must be imagining things, because Youngho looks extremely pleased. “But actually… after finals, I’m going clubbing with a couple of my friends.” Taeyong doesn’t know why the admission makes him feel shy, but it does.

  
“Clubbing?” Youngho’s eyes swim with mirth. “Well that will certainly be an interesting experience. I hope you’ll send me pictures of your outfit.”

 

Taeyong blinks in confusion. “What do you mean? I’m going to wear my regular clothes.”

 

Youngho sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose. “One does not simply walk into a club in pedestrian outfits.”

 

Taeyong scowls, crossing his arms. “How would you know? All you do is sit in here and read dusty old books.”

 

At that, Youngho laughs. “Silly human. I used to be _quite_ the party animal back in my day.”

 

“When was that, the Jurassic?”

 

Youngho fixes him with a flat look. “Ha ha. Close but not quite.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I’m sure your friends will enlighten you. I don’t want to give you outdated fashion advice and have you showing up in bell bottoms.”

 

Taeyong’s face twists in horror, and Youngho laughs, loud and booming. “I’m confident you’ll enjoy yourself. Send pictures though, I want to know what’s trending these days with the young kids.”

 

“Even I don’t know what’s trending these days,” Taeyong mutters, and Youngho snorts.

 

“But anyway, back to the main point about Donghyuck.” Taeyong sobers up immediately. “I had been considering this for a while, and it seems like the most appropriate time to ask you.” Taeyong raises an eyebrow in question. Youngho takes a deep breath, nervous. “How would you feel about spending the holidays here? With… me?”

 

Taeyong blinks stupidly at him, processing. Youngho takes the silence as hesitation, and begins rambling. “Of course, you don’t have to. It was merely a suggestion, since you would be alone and that would be terrible and you already spend so much time here anyway, the commute--”

 

“Are you sure?” Taeyong cuts him off. “I wouldn’t be interrupting some three thousand year old holiday traditions or anything like that?”

 

Youngho laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Holidays tend to blur together after a while.” Youngho looks down at the carpet. “Anyways, it’s usually just me here. It would be nice to have company.” Youngho smiles sweetly, and Taeyong’s heart melts. How could he ever say no to Youngho? Not that he wants to.

 

“I would love that, Youngho,” Taeyong says sincerely.

 

The way Youngho’s face just lights up makes Taeyong’s heart flutter. “Really?”

 

Taeyong laughs. “Yes, really. Why would I lie?”

 

Youngho pouts, and looks very much like a dejected puppy, droopy eyes and all. “I was just making sure…” But the smile is back after a moment, and he stands up straight, practically bouncing. “After finals we can arrange for your things to be packed and moved here.”

 

“Oh that reminds me! I need to request a leave of absence during finals week,” Taeyong says with mock seriousness. Youngho snorts at his choice of words. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back and forth with the exams and stuff.”

 

Youngho nods, understanding. “I was going to suggest that as well. I don’t want you to be distracted.”

 

Taeyong beams. “Thanks, Youngho.”

 

“And once exams are over, you can relax and we’ll have a lot of fun!”

 

Youngho’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Taeyong finds himself feeling better than he did earlier. It always seems to go that way around Youngho.

 

\--

 

It’s around midnight when Ten leans over the table, eyes sparkling with a sort of mischief not meant for the middle of finals week. He’s currently sipping on a vanilla bean frappuccino, and given that it’s the middle of the night in winter, Taeyong can only use this to confirm that Ten is never to be trusted.

 

“So, I was chatting with Yuta the other day,” Ten starts, and Taeyong groans. It was an unfortunate fact of life that Ten and Yuta were friends, and never missed an opportunity to coordinate and ruin Taeyong’s day. He looks at Jaehyun for help, panicked, but the shifter is unconscious and drooling into his anatomy lab notebook.

 

“He said some _very_ interesting things.”

 

Taeyong laughs nervously, trying to distract himself by gathering his notes and the rather impressive assortment of highlighters and pens he’d strewn around their table at the local twenty four hour Starbucks. “About what? Me?”

 

“No, about Jesus,” Ten snarks, then smacks Taeyong’s arm. “Yes, of _course_ about you, you dingus.”

 

“You know, I have no idea why people are using that word again? It’s honestly archaic and it sounds like it would be the name of a marsupial--”

 

“TY, stop changing the subject. I’m trying to help you here.”

 

Taeyong purses his lips. “What did Yuta say to you?”

 

Ten smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Nothing much. Just that you might have a… special someone.”

 

Taeyong’s laugh is so high-pitched in panic that it makes Jaehyun wake with a start, glancing between him and Ten with one eye still stuck closed. “What happened? What did I miss?”

 

Ten coos and pets Jaehyun’s hair. “Nothing, just go back to sleep.” Jaehyun shrugs, and with no further fuss, slams his head down on the table again and begins lightly snoring. And then Ten’s sharp, calculating eyes are on Taeyong again. “So there is a someone?”

 

“No! Yuta’s exaggerating! There’s no one!”

 

“Is it the sugar daddy?”

 

“He’s not my sugar daddy!”

 

Ten claps his hand and points a finger in Taeyong’s face accusingly. “So there _is_ someone!”

 

“Fuck,” Taeyong hisses, sinking into his seat. He’d been doing well steeping in his own denial. Now that Ten’s gotten his sticky hands in the situation, there was little Taeyong could do to resist whatever schemes his friends came up with.

 

“Okay, now that we’ve confirmed there is a _someone,_ we have to figure out how to get you two together.”

 

“I’m sorry, we?”

 

Ten rolls his eyes, like Taeyong is missing a very large and obvious point. “Yes, _we._ Do you honestly think I’d let you do this on your own? Knowing you, you’d just steep in denial the whole time until the guy moved on and you’d be heartbroken and mopey for months.”

 

Taeyong opens his mouth to protest, then realizes those are the exact words he himself was thinking. “I don’t need help. It’s not gonna happen.” How is he supposed to explain to Ten that the odds of him and an ancient vampire getting together are exactly zero?

 

“It might, if you’re not left to your own devices.” Somehow, Taeyong doubts this.

 

“Okay, I’m confused. Yuta asked _you_ to help _me?_ ”

 

“Yeah, duh? He’s an insensitive prick. And he has no dating life, how could he possibly know anything about seduction and romance? That’s why he asked for my help.” Ten motions to himself, smug.

 

Taeyong frowns. “That’s oddly… thoughtful?”

 

“I know right? I was surprised too. But as your friends, we have a stake in your happiness. Plus maybe if you had a boyfriend you’d stop being so emo all the time.”

 

Taeyong snorts at that. The idea of calling Youngho his boyfriend was too strange to consider. He’s relatively certain Youngho would use prefer to use some archaic term like _lover_ or _partner._ Not that those were any better, but the idea of it makes Taeyong’s cheeks tint pink.

 

“ _Oooooh,_ are you _thinking_ about him?” Ten sings, and Taeyong shoves his hand in his face.

 

“Shut up.”

 

Ten just grabs Taeyong’s hand in both of his and leans forward, eyes serious. “Don’t worry, TY. I have a foolproof plan for you to seduce the man of your dreams.”

 

“I-I don’t want to seduce him!” Taeyong splutters. The part of his brain that correlated Youngho with the word sexy had been cut off by bright yellow caution tape and a squadron of police vehicles in his head. That was not a place he would ever allow himself to go, for fear of never being able to drag himself out.

 

“Okay, not seduce then. I forgot you were a prude,” Ten says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s call it… influencing attraction.” He pulls out his phone and taps on it a few times, before sliding it over to Taeyong. It’s an incredibly thorough list of ideas for Taeyong to Nab the Man of His Dreams, and it’s actually impressive the amount of thought Ten has clearly put into this.

 

“Are you guys really this invested in my non-existent love life?”

 

“Yes,” Ten replies without missing a beat.

 

Taeyong looks down at the list again, chewing on his lip and gauging his level of desperation. “I might… agree to some of these. If I was drunk enough.”

 

At that, Ten grins, wicked and gleeful. “Good thing we’re getting you plastered on Friday.”

 

\--

 

There’s a sharp buzz near Taeyong’s head that makes him jerk up from his position hunched over the dining table. He hadn’t realized he’d dozed off, but it was ten at night the Thursday of finals week, and with just one more exam to go, he’d effectively drained all his energy.

 

However, he feels a lot better than he has in previous years during exams week. Working full time meant having little to no time to study, which meant testing anxiety and self esteem issues directly correlated with his shit grades. This week, he’s been productive and significantly less stressed. He’d never admit it out loud, though, because that would mean Youngho was right.

 

Taeyong wipes his mouth haphazardly, knowing he probably drooled during his impromptu nap. Even though he’s studying well, his sleep cycle is still a mess, so he’s perpetually exhausted. He’s also having random cravings, and feels incredibly emotionally unstable. There’s another buzz, and he realizes it’s coming from his phone, so he grabs it.

 

**From: Youngho**

**It’s the final stretch and I wanted to check in and make sure you aren’t doing something ridiculous.**

**If possible, please send a selfie to confirm proof of life.**

 

Taeyong can’t help the stupid grin that tugs at his lips. He sends Youngho a picture of him with his eyes closed, chin resting on his palm.

 

**From: Taeyong**

**[image attached]**

**I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing**

 

**From: Youngho**

**What a qt pi**

**Oh wait that is a song reference!**

**I know this one!**

**“Just prayin to a God that I don’t believe in”**

 

Taeyong snorts, and in his sleep-addled mind, he can’t help but think that Youngho is the dumbest, cutest person he’s ever met.

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Congratulations u have good taste in music**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Thank you.**

**I am trying to expand my exposure to different types of music.**

**I am struggling to understand the appeal of Justin Bieber.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Don’t concern urself too much lol**

 

**From: Youngho**

**This teen heartthrob phenomenon is very strange.**

**Perhaps in another life, I too could have had gaggles of teenage girls screaming for me as I sang and danced onstage.**

**How are you doing?**

**I apologize if I’m interrupting your study time.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**No!!!! Ur fine I’m glad u texted actually**

**I’m really exhausted but doing well considering everything**

**Having weird cravings?**

**I want donuts LOL**

 

**From: Youngho**

**I have not had the good fortune of ever having a donut**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**You’ve never had a donut???? Wildddddd**

**Ur missing out bud**

 

The (1) next to Taeyong’s messages disappear, indicating they’ve been read, but Youngho makes no indication of responding. Taeyong frowns. Youngho always responds very quickly. He’d always wondered how Youngho had time to reply to his messages so consistently, but now that he’s gotten used to it, he feels oddly anxious when Youngho doesn’t text back quickly.

 

He groans, letting his head meet the table with a dull _thud._ He’s got a mild headache forming, and his body hurts. He just wants exams to be over so that he can feel some sense of clarity again. Ten keeps texting him pictures of outfits for the club (how he has time to do this in the middle of exams, Taeyong has no idea), and he keeps vetoing them. Youngho was right (again) about the outfit thing. Apparently what is trending with the young kids these days are leather pants and chokers.

 

Approximately ten minutes pass before Taeyong musters up the strength to get up. He needs to brush his teeth and take a shower, and if he’s lucky, he can get some sleep. Studying anymore is completely futile, and he feels like he’s going to burst out crying at any moment.

 

As Taeyong is changing into his pajamas, his phone buzzes, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he dives for it, and for the first time, he’s glad he lives alone.

 

**From: Youngho**

**[image attached]**

**Donuts are strange human concoctions.**

 

Taeyong gasps at the picture of Youngho holding a bright pink donut.

 

**From: Taeyong**

**YOUOUU U FUCKINGNG ASSHOELE**

 

Taeyong feels like he might really cry this time.

 

**From: Youngho**

**Me? An asshole?**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**YOU WENET TNT T AND GOT DONUTS WHEN I JSUT SAID I WANTED**

**FRIENDSHIP CANCELLED**

 

**From: Youngho**

**But I got some for you too?**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Wait wat**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Before you make any hasty decisions about our relationship, you should check your doorstep.**

 

Taeyong almost drops his phone and darts to his door, heart slamming in his ribcage. When he opens the door, there is a large white bakery box on the ground. He picks it up gingerly, and notices Youngho’s elegant cursive on the top.

 

_Best of luck tomorrow! I am so proud of you for pushing through._

_Love, Youngho_

 

Taeyong flops to the ground and starts crying.

 

\--

 

“You’re certain you left them on his doorstep?” Youngho asks, eyes wide and imploring as the car pulls out of the apartment parking lot.

 

If Doyoung valued his life any less, he might have rolled his eyes. “Yes, your Majesty.” This was definitely in the top five strangest things he’d ever had to do for Youngho Seo.

 

Youngho sags back into his seat in relief. His phone buzzes right then, and he sits up straighter. “Oh! He’s calling me. Why is he calling me?”

 

“Perhaps you should answer it and find out, your Majesty.”

 

“Oh, right. Yes, uhm.” Youngho accepts the call and puts the phone to his ear.

 

“Taeyong?”

 

 _“Younghoooo,”_ Taeyong wails from the other end of the line, and Youngho winces, pulling the phone away from his ear.

 

“Are you crying, Taeyong? Why are you crying?”

 

_“Why are you so nice to me? Stop it, I hate you!”_

 

Youngho snickers. “I believe you mispronounced _I am eternally grateful and our friendship is not cancelled._ ”

 

 _“You brought me donuts!”_ Taeyong screeches. _“Why did you do that?”_

 

“You said you wanted them. I wanted to cheer you up. I’m not sure it worked.”

 

 _“N-no, you did! I promise, I’m so h-happy I just--”_ Taeyong breaks off into another sob.

 

“Forgive me if I am not convinced. Please don’t cry,” Youngho says gently. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

 

“ _”These are happy tears you ass. Why are you so perfect I hate you. Why are you so nice?”_

 

“You’re very bad at giving compliments.”

 

 _“Yeah well I’m tired and stressed and emotionally unstable and you brought me donuts.”_ There’s muffled noises of Taeyong blowing his nose.

 

“Well, as long as you’re alright,” Youngho says dryly.

 

 _“I’m swell thanks!”_ Taeyong sniffles.

 

“I think you should go to bed, Taeyong. You can have the donuts in the morning.” There’s silence over the line. “Taeyong?”

 

_“...I already ate three.”_

 

Youngho laughs, startled. He shoots an incredulous look to Doyoung, who only shrugs. “You’ll get a stomach ache.”

 

_“Fucking sue me.”_

 

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed, Taeyong.”

 

More sniffling. _“Okay.”_

 

“Good boy,” Youngho says before he can really think about it.

 

 _“That’s my line. Don’t copy me.”_ Youngho can practically see the adorable pout Taeyong is no doubt sporting. The thought of it makes him grin, wide and stupid. _“Seriously Youngho… you didn’t have to. I’m-- I don’t know what to say.”_

 

“Don’t say anything. Just brush your teeth and go to sleep.”

 

 _“Okay.”_ Taeyong’s voice is wobbly again, and Youngho is afraid he’ll start crying again. _“Good night, Youngho. I know it’s only been like a week but I miss you.”_

 

And _oh,_ the way Youngho’s heart clenches is unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He feels like his insides are melting, and he gets a rush of euphoria that a few simple words from a human shouldn’t invoke. Then again, he’s always been terribly, awfully weak for Taeyong, from the very first day.

 

“I miss you too, darling,” Youngho says, tender and aching with affection. He can’t be sure his voice doesn’t waver. “But I’ll see you very soon.”

 

Youngho ends the call and stares at the screen for a while, even after it turns black. He can’t shake the smile off his face. If it was anyone but Doyoung in the car with him, he might have made a better attempt to school his expression.

 

There’s a dull ache in his chest, and he rubs his sternum. “What is this feeling, Doyoung?”

 

“I beg your pardon, your Majesty?” He looks up from his phone, having chosen to zone out of the phone conversation the moment it became too intimate. Youngho deserved a private moment, and what he chose to say to the human was not something Doyoung needed to concern himself with.

 

“After every interaction I have with him, my chest hurts. It feels like indigestion.”

 

Doyoung purses his lips in an attempt to mask a smile. He thinks back to what he told Taeyong, about three thousand years doing nothing for common sense. “... I believe the kids these days call it _being whipped._ ”

 

Youngho frowns. “Whipped? With what?”

 

Doyoung tucks his lips between his teeth. “That remains to be seen, your Majesty.”

 

Youngho hums thoughtfully, oblivious to Doyoung’s meaning. Then, “Oh, I almost forgot. Taeyong will be spending the winter in my home. I’d like if you could prepare a suite for him in my wing.”

 

Doyoung blinks at Youngho. “Have you asked him about the Winter Solstice, your Majesty?”

 

 _Oh,_ Youngho thinks. _That’s what I forgot to do._

 

He clearls his throat. “I was… waiting for a more opportune time.” Doyoung’s expression is neutral, but Youngho can feel the judgement radiating off him in waves.

 

“Certainly, your Majesty.”

 

\--

 

**From: Taeyong**

**YOUNGHOGHGOOO**

**Uhmmm dont freak out lol but**

**I did smth**

 

**From: Youngho**

**That entire message is grounds for freaking out.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Butu ti it’s not a bad hting!! I think???/ idk**

**Ten thinsk si he’s a genuis or smth si dkiii**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Taeyong are you drunk?**

 

**From:**

**maybebeeeeee???/////**

**i forgot im a litgtht wei**

**Lighthi weig**

**Light h weight**

**Nvm**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Are you with your friends right now?**

**Please drink some water.**

**What happened Taeyong?**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Im d drunkingingg!! Dw mom!!!!**

**I didin somtht!! Um**

**Idk wht ur gonna think abt it**

**A lot of ppl seem toe like it tho?**

**I got li k e  5 nubers? From strangers**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Do not give your number to strangers.**

**Do not go home with a stranger.**

**You cannot consent to sexual activity when you are under the influence of alcohol.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**OKA JE MOM EJEJESUS**

**I wasnt ognna!!!! I liek some 1 anyway**

**Wiait dont rea d that message**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Taeyong.**

**What happened?**

**I am trying very hard not to drive to wherever you are and take you home.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**RELEAL AZXXXXX**

**IT’S SNOTHING SERIOUS I PROMISE!!111**

**JSUT UHM**

**Ten amde me m e die my hair**

**Dye my hair**

**It’s s pink**

**Idk how i f elel**

**[image attached]**

 

**Young gohghoo i can see that u read my messagew!!!!!**

**Dont leave me on read!!!!! !**

**Ur so rud eican see u reading hte se**

**Why arent u respondign em eo to**

 

**Young hgoi gooo what hte fuc k**

**Reply u fucking dkf dingus i ahte u**

 

**From: Youngho**

**I apologize.**

**I suddenly realized I had something very important to do.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Ssureeueeeeeeee**

**Whatev i dont eneven care anyway**

**I spent tht e whole time dancininnnggngggg nnot thinking ab ti u os u can go suck it**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Please text me when you get home safely.**

 

\--

 

Taeyong wakes up aching, sticky, and overheated. He groans, mouth stuffed with cotton, and looks around. He vaguely recognizes the room as Ten’s, and the man in question is currently sprawled out on the opposite end of the bed, foot dangerously close to Taeyong’s throat.

 

Jaehyun is similarly unconscious, his body half on the bed, half off, and Taeyong doesn't have the strength or the willpower to pull him back. Jaehyun will just have to fall over when he wakes up.

 

Taeyong smacks his mouth and screws up his face. This is why he doesn't drink, and he should have known better. The whole night was a massive blur, especially since Ten and Jaehyun had been handing him drinks since before they even left the house.

 

Needless to say, Taeyong had made a lot of choices he wouldn't have if he was sober. He reaches up to his hair and runs his fingers through. _Right,_ Taeyong sighs, resigned. _I really bleached my hair last night._ He'd also been coerced into one of Ten’s elaborate leather and choker ensembles, and chains may have also been involved. Taeyong wants to be quarantined.

 

He looks around and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his phone on Ten’s nightstand. The relief turns to panic when he reads the notifications on his screen.

 

_(10) Missed Calls from Youngho_

_(7) New Messages from Youngho_

 

He scrambles to unlock his phone and read the messages.

 

**From: Youngho**

**Taeyong are you alright?**

**Did you get home safely?**

**I hope you are drinking water.**

**Do not give your number to strangers.**

**Text me if you remember. Let me know if you got home.**

**Taeyong?**

**Taeyong.**

 

“Fuck,” Taeyong hisses.

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Youngho IM SORRY**

**Last night was so blurry I forgot**

**We all crashed at Ten’s place**

**I’m sorry if I worried you**

 

Youngho’s response comes unnaturally fast.  

 

**From: Youngho**

**It’s alright. I was a bit worried but I am glad you’re safe.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**I'm sorry for worrying you TT___TT**

**Honestly I'm never going clubbing again**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Oh? It seemed that last night you were having a lot of fun.**

 

Taeyong raises an eyebrow at his screen. Then, with building horror, he scrolls through the messages he sent Youngho last night and seriously contemplates changing his name and moving to another continent.

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Oh my god I drunk texted you**

 

**From: Youngho**

**There is a name for that type of discourse? Fascinating.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**This is so embarrassing I can't**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Can't what?**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**I JUST CAN’T**

**Please ignore those messages**

**I fucking beg you**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Do not worry.**

**They were not nearly coherent enough for me to decipher what you were trying to say.**

**But**

**Did you really dye your hair pink?**

 

Taeyong blinks at the screen, then remembers the embarrassingly provocative selfie he’d sent Youngho. He’d been sitting in a booth at the club at the time, and so he’d leaned back, exposing his throat wrapped around the leather choker, and parted his lips, taking the photo from above. His skin was flushed from the alcohol and dancing, lips wet, hair tousled from him running his hand through it all night. Taeyong thinks it looked more like he was trying to sext Youngho, not show his new hair color, and the urge to die comes back tenfold.

 

**From: Taeyong**

**I did TT_____TT**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Do you regret it?**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**I'm not sure yet rip**

**What do you think?**

 

**From: Youngho**

**I didn't get a chance to look too closely at the picture.**

 

A misplaced feeling of disappointment stabs at Taeyong.

 

**I would like to see it in person and then make a judgement.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Okay well**

**Ur gonna see it tomorrow**

**So look forward to it!!!! I guess lmao rip**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Yes I am looking forward to that.**

**Now, I'm sure you have a hangover. Please take some medicine and sleep.**

 

**From: Taeyong**

**Sure mom**

 

**From: Youngho**

**Rest in peace**

 

\--

 

“Youngho!”

 

Youngho looks up from the juice box he’d been burning holes into, only to find a hyper-excited Taeyong rushing at him, waving his phone around like a maniac.

 

“My grades! My grades!” Youngho’s eyes widen when he realizes Taeyong is running for him, with no intention of stopping, and he grunts when the human runs into his chest, crushing him into a hug.

 

“I’m guessing they’re to your satisfaction?” Youngho laughs, tightening his arms around Taeyong. He can’t imagine a better way to reunite than this. Youngho had missed Taeyong terribly this last week, so he hugs him closer.

 

“Almost straight A’s!” Taeyong says, shoving his phone screen in Youngho’s face. The vampire grabs it and holds it away, squinting. “Except biochemistry. My worst enemy.” Taeyong pouts exaggeratedly, but it melts away into a beautiful, bright grin. “I’ve never had grades this nice in my entire _life._ ”

 

“I’m very proud of you, Taeyong,” Youngho says sincerely. Taeyong’s enthusiasm is infectious, and he finds himself matching the human’s wide smile. He’d been worried about how Taeyong fared on his exams, but didn’t dare to ask, fearing Taeyong might be self-conscious about them. Youngho figured he’d been invasive enough at the beginning. They didn’t need to do that anymore.

 

“Thanks, Youngho. Really. It’s all because of you.” Taeyong’s eyes are shining, and Youngho finds himself breathless. He can’t remember anyone ever looking at him like that.

 

Youngho laughs, shaking his head. “No, this is all you.” He taps Taeyong’s nose, and Taeyong scrunches it adorably. “I didn’t take your exams for you.”

 

“But if you didn’t tell me to quit at the coffee shop…”

 

“It was just a piece of advice. You did all of this. And according to your exam scores, they are certifiably _not_ below average.” Taeyong looks down at his shoes, cheeks tinged pink, and Youngho resists the urge to ruffle his hair. That thought draws his attention to Taeyong’s head, which is currently covered by a grey beanie.

 

“You covered up your hair?”

 

“Huh?” Taeyong’s hands fly up to his head as if he’d forgotten. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t want Doyoung to judge me,” he admits sheepishly.

 

“Doyoung has seen much worse, I promise. I will spare you the details. Now,” Youngho musters up all of his willpower to step out of Taeyong’s embrace. He crosses his arms and schools his face into a stern expression. “I believe there is a verdict to be made.”

 

“Uh… okay.” Taeyong bites his lip and tugs the beanie off his head, running his hand through his pastel pink hair, as if it would make a difference. As if styling it would somehow prevent Youngho from wanting to fall to the ground and weep.

 

Youngho takes a sharp breath, because this is exactly what he’d been afraid of when Taeyong sent him the cursed selfie two nights prior. The noise he’d let out when he opened the image was ungodly, and he spent a good hour stomping around his home muttering to himself, before setting the image as his phone homescreen, much to Doyoung’s concern.

 

He would never thought that one single picture would be the downfall of Youngho Seo.

 

And seeing it in person, Youngho fears he may lose his mind. Taeyong had been unnaturally beautiful from the first day they met, even with the bags under his eyes and exhaustion pulling at his bones. As time went on, as he became healthier and came alive, it only added to his allure.

 

Right now, Taeyong is positively _glowing,_ and Youngho can’t quite catch his breath. He knew he was in trouble from the moment Taeyong asked him if their first feeding was okay for him, eyes wide with concern. Now, Youngho might as well be roasting over a fire. That would be less painful than realizing the force of his love for Taeyong Lee.

 

“Well?” Taeyong asks a little impatiently, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Youngho thinks he looks like an angel sent down from heaven.

 

“I--” Youngho swallows, belatedly realizing he hadn’t been breathing all this time. He reaches out to pet Taeyong’s hair, to confirm that this is, in fact, reality, and not a figment of his rather wild and unforgiving imagination.

 

Taeyong’s hair is soft and silky between his fingers. Youngho feels knocked breathless again.

 

“It looks quite nice,” Youngho manages. He pats Taeyong’s head one last time and plasters a neutral smile on his lips. “It is Youngho-approved.”

 

Taeyong blinks thrice, face blank. He then frowns, looking mildly annoyed. “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say?”

 

Youngho raises his shoulders defensively. “What do you want me to say? You were afraid it didn’t look nice. It looks neat!”

 

“Neat,” Taeyong repeats flatly. “Right.” He huffs, shoving the beanie back over his head, and Youngho resists the urge to take it and toss it in the incinerator. “Anyway, I brought a bag? I don’t know where it is, Doyoung wouldn’t let me carry it.”

 

“Don’t worry about that. He’ll probably have it put in your suite.”

 

Taeyong’s eyes widen like saucers. “My suite?”

 

Youngho raises an eyebrow. “Would you prefer to have the West Wing? It’s a bit short notice, but if you need more space, I can--”

 

“ _No,_ Youngho what the hell? That’s not what I meant.” Taeyong huffs, tugging at Youngho’s sleeve. Youngho frowns, confused. “Oh my god. Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Okay?” _Strange human._

 

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “You were saying about the... suite? Where is it?”

 

“Oh, it’s still being prepared for you. I apologize, we’ve been a bit busy here.” Youngho wonders, once again, how he’s going to explain the Winter Solstice to Taeyong.

 

Taeyong waves his hands around frantically. “No, oh my god. That’s totally chill. I can wait.”

 

“Good. In the meantime, let’s go get dinner.”

 

“Dinner?”

 

Youngho smiles. “It’s my treat. You deserve it.” He takes Taeyong’s hand and pulls him out of the kitchen.

 

“Wait, where are we going? Are we going out?”

 

Youngho raises an eyebrow at Taeyong. “That is generally where food can be found.”

 

“B-but--” Taeyong splutters and tugs at his oversized grey hoodie. “I’m dressed like a potato! You can’t be seem with me like this!”

 

Youngho scoffs. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say.” He tugs Taeyong along until they’re outside. “You could wear a trash bag and you would still be stunning.” Youngho pauses in his steps, realizing he really said that out loud. He dares to look at Taeyong, who blushes and can’t meet Youngho’s eyes.

 

“Uh. You’re exaggerating but thanks.” Taeyong smiles shakily at him. “But are you sure I shouldn’t change? We don’t really… match.” Youngho looks down at his own outfit-- a cream sweater and slacks. It had seemed like appropriate clothing to wear, considering wintertime on this side of the country was never very cold.

 

“It’s doesn’t matter,” Youngho says firmly as he walks past the rows of cars lining the driveway.

 

“Are you _sure?_ I mean-- _Whoa,_ you have a _Tesla?_ ”

 

Taeyong tugs his hand away from Youngho’s to approach the sleek black car as if it’s a frightened animal. “Holy shit, can I touch it?”

 

Youngho frowns incredulously. “Sure?”

 

“Oh my god,” Taeyong whispers, placing his hands gingerly on the hood. “This is the best day of my life.”

 

“It’s just a car, Taeyong.”

 

Taeyong whips his head around to glare at Youngho, clearly offended. “It’s a _Tesla,_ you ass. Don’t insult it.” Taeyong pats the car gently, further confusing Youngho. “Can I marry it?” Taeyong asks seriously.

 

“Absolutely not.” Youngho digs the key out of his pocket and unlocks the doors. “But you can sit inside it while I drive.”

 

“Same thing!” Taeyong chirps, sliding into the passenger seat after Youngho opens the door for him. Taeyong _ooh’s_ and _aah’s_ over the gadgets on the dashboard for a minute before stopping and turning to Youngho with narrowed eyes.

 

“Wait a minute. Can you even drive?”

 

“Of course I can drive! I'll have you know I've had a license for approximately eighty years!” Youngho snaps, annoyed. “How long have you had your license huh?”

 

Taeyong whips his head away to face the window and scratches his neck. “I don't have a license,” he mumbles.

 

Youngho purses his lips. “That's what I thought.” He turns the ignition, and they’re off into the night. Taeyong plasters his face to the window, watching the scenery go by, and it takes all of Youngho’s willpower not to take his eyes off the road to stare at him.

 

A few minutes of blissful quiet pass by, which Youngho uses to build up the courage to speak. “Taeyong…”

 

The human hums, but keeps his eyes glued to the window.

 

“There’s something… I forgot to tell you.” Sensing Youngho’s apprehension, Taeyong turns his head around and raises an eyebrow.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“No! No, nothing like that. Just… a small situation. I’m not sure how you will react.”

 

“Well you can find out pretty quickly if you tell me,” Taeyong says bluntly. Youngho curses himself for thinking he could beat around the bush. Truthfully, he’s not sure why he’s even this nervous. He never gets nervous. But Taeyong has always been the exception to everything.

 

“Every few years, I host an… event.” Youngho wonders how to explain himself. “The Winter Solstice-- it is like a ball, but mostly a glorified summit. Dignitaries representing the different walks of life are invited, and it’s an opportunity, I’ve found, to keep peace.”

 

“People still have balls?” Taeyong asks, and Youngho rolls his eyes. “When is it?”

 

“In a week’s time. That’s why the house is in such chaos.”

 

Taeyong’s eyes widen, as though he’s connected something together. “Oh, it’s at your castle.” He’s silent for a minute. “Do you want me to go back to my apartment that day?”

 

Youngho frowns. “What? No, that’s not why I’m telling you this.”

 

“Then why?”

 

“Well, it would mean a lot to me if you attended by my side. I know you don’t want to be involved in my politics, but I don’t want you to have to hide away, and I think you might have fun--” Youngho snaps his mouth shut, realizing he’s rambling now.

 

Taeyong stares at him for a minute. “Won’t it be… weird? I’m a human.”

 

“There will be other humans there.” Youngho doesn’t mention that those humans will be the president and her husband. Somehow, he feels that might deter Taeyong. “Your friend, Yuta, is also invited.”

 

“Oh, really?” Youngho nods.

 

“I would like you to be there, Taeyong.”

 

Taeyong scrunches his shoulders forward, the way he does when he feels small. “What would be the purpose of that? Wouldn’t it just attract unnecessary attention? I’m not anyone important.”

 

“Of course you are important. And I would like if you could be by my side, as my companion for the evening.”

 

Taeyong raises his eyebrows. “Your _companion?_ You mean like your date?”

 

It takes a moment for Youngho to process what Taeyong means, because the first thing he thinks of is the dried brown tropical fruit. Then, blushing, “No! Not a date, a companion.”

 

“Companion is crusty vampire speak for date, though.”

 

Then it hits Youngho that yes, he is, in fact, asking Taeyong to be his “date”. Was that why he was so nervous? Why he continually put this off? He’d never asked anyone out in his entire existence, there had never been a need. And then, there was Taeyong, who made Youngho feel a flurry of new emotions, and invoked a tenderness he was not certain he was capable. And currently, he is making Youngho incredibly flustered by the weight of his gaze.

 

Youngho laughs nervously, thanking the deities when their destination appears in his periphery. “Oh would you look at that! We’re here!”

 

\--

 

“A pizza parlor?” Taeyong asks after they’d settled into their table.

 

“An _authentic_ Italian pizza parlor,” Youngho corrects. “They hand toss their dough and use fresh mozzarella.”  

 

Taeyong opens his mouth to say something, but they're cut off by a waitress, who puts their drinks down with shaky hands. He thinks it's probably because Youngho looks like a wealthy assassin. Taeyong is almost certain she doesn't know who Youngho is, but the vampire exudes an aura of power that is palpable enough for people to be wary.

 

He thanks the waitress, who he now feels extremely sympathetic towards, and pulls his orange soda closer. Youngho had opted for a glass of wine like a real adult, but Taeyong is still having war flashbacks about his most recent foray into alcohol consumption.

 

“Not that I'm complaining or anything. I just thought when you said restaurant that it was gonna be something different.”

 

Youngho takes a sip of his wine, posh as ever. “Would you rather we had gone to some stuffy five-star restaurant? You would have needed to change into a suit.”

 

Taeyong shivers at the mere mention of it. “No thank you.”

 

Youngho smirks. “That's what I thought. I wanted to bring you out but I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.” He takes another sip.

 

Taeyong chews on his straw, looking around the reasonably full seating area. “Or you're just a cheap date,” he mumbles, then looks up in alarm when Youngho starts coughing, having choked on his drink. “Are you okay?” Taeyong asks, pushing his glass towards the vampire, who’s face is turning more red by the moment.

 

“ _I'm fine,_ ” Youngho wheezes, after he'd cleared his throat with soda. Taeyong raises his eyebrow as Youngho thumps his chest, cheeks flushed.

 

“O...kay?”

 

Youngho clears his throat and huffs, fanning his face. “I’m okay. The situation is under control.”

 

Before Taeyong can badger him any further, the waitress comes back, balancing a large pizza tray in her hands. Her hands are a bit more stable this time around as she sets it down, though she still won’t look at Youngho.

 

“Bone apple tea, Taeyong!”

 

Taeyong twists his face. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Youngho considers banging his head on the table. If he did, it still wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he’s said or done today. _Why can’t I just be cool?_

 

Luckily, Taeyong is deterred by the food in front of him, and Youngho is spared a few minutes of silence to gather his wits as Taeyong munches happily on his pizza.

 

“Okay, I have a question,” Taeyong says, putting his crust on Youngho’s plate, because he refuses to eat it. Youngho hums. “Actually I have two questions.”

 

“That won’t make me less likely to answer them both.”

 

Taeyong shoots him a flat look. “Thanks.” He grabs another slice off the pan. “Do vampires need to eat regular food?”

 

Youngho pads at the corner of his lips with a napkin and swallows the bite of food currently in his mouth. He abhors speaking with his mouth full, though Taeyong does not seem to have the same proclivity. “Well, like humans and any other organism, really, we need certain types of nutrition, which we get from drinking blood. But we, like humans, can consume all sorts of other things not vital to our diet. Thus, the juice boxes. And pizza.”

 

Taeyong nods in thought. “Then why do you take so little of my blood? Like when you feed it’s like you're done in a minute.” He pouts. “I feel like I'm scamming you or something.”

 

Youngho has to giggle at that. Taeyong gives him a look, but he can't help the amusement at the words. The idea of Taeyong scamming him was ludicrous, especially when Youngho felt the same way from his end of the bargain.

 

“Blood Singers have extremely potent blood. I do not need to take more than what I already do to feel sated.”

 

“Oh.” Taeyong blinks. “Okay, that makes me feel better.” Before Youngho can respond, there is a light buzz, and Taeyong jerks, digging his phone out of his pocket. “Oh, sorry, do you mind if I check my phone? Donghyuck felt bad for not coming home so he said he'd send me updates of how he's doing.”

 

“By all means,” Youngho hums, picking at his pizza. He looks up with curiosity when Taeyong giggles.

 

“Do you want to see?” Taeyong asks, already turning his phone screen to Youngho before he can respond. Youngho squints at the screen-- it's a photo of two boys, wrapped in winter jackets and scarves, making a peace sign at the camera.

 

“The one with the red hair is Donghyuck because he dyed it the first week of school.” Taeyong rolls his eyes, much like an exasperated mother. “The other one is Mark. They're roommates.” Taeyong leans over with a conspiratorial smirk. “I think Donghyuck has a crush on him.”

 

That makes Youngho laugh. He'd heard a lot about Taeyong’s beloved brother, and Donghyuck looks as mischievous as Taeyong describes him. He studies the picture closely. They have the same wide, kind eyes.

 

“You two have the same eyes,” Youngho says, omitting the details of his thoughts.

 

Taeyong beams. “Isn't he the cutest?”

 

Youngho laughs. “I think you're cuter.” He expects a laugh, but what he gets is an offended gasp.

 

“How could you say something like that?”

 

Youngho's eyes widen in alarm. “I said you were cute…”

 

“You can't say I'm cute at the expense of my brother! He's my baby so he's automatically the cutest.”

 

 _Strange human._ “I apologize for my indiscretion. You are the second cutest.”

 

Taeyong leans back in his seat, appeased. “Did you ever have siblings, Youngho?”

 

Youngho smiles softly, wistful. “Maybe? It's hard to remember what life was like before I was turned.”

 

Taeyong tilts his head, and the movement reminds Youngho of a curious kitten. “You don't remember anything?”

 

Youngho frowns, thinking. “They appear like snippets in my mind. I believe my parents were farmers. I remember the massive rice fields and running through them as a child.” A pause. “I think I must have had many siblings. I would have been the oldest.”

 

“What happened to them, do you know?” Taeyong asks softly, carefully, likes he's treading delicate waters.

 

“There was a vampire attack in our village. They probably were killed or they died in the fires that were set afterwards. I think I was twenty five or so when it happened, thus my appearance.”

 

Taeyong’s lip quivers, and Youngho feels sad, but only because Taeyong seems so. He’d had millennia to think about what happened, and he'd come to terms with his fate. “For the longest time, I was devastated. I felt so… powerless. I wanted to change that, and somehow, I ended up here.”

 

“And you’ve changed the world,” Taeyong says sincerely. Youngho shoots him a lopsided grin.

 

“I guess I have.”

 

“Do you remember who turned you?” Youngho sighs. He hadn’t divulged this information to anyone, and knowing that this was out there now, somehow, makes him feel vaguely uncomfortable, but it’s Taeyong; Youngho trusts Taeyong more than anyone, and that’s enough. He wants to open up the same way Taeyong had. He deserved that much.

 

“His name is Taeil Moon,” Youngho explains, and the thought of his sire makes his lips quirk up in amusement. “He saved me that night, and turned me. He is a very… strange man. But a good one. He taught me what was right and wrong. We stuck together for almost a thousand years.”

 

“What happened? Did you guys fight?”

 

Youngho takes a contemplative sip of his wine. “I realized I wanted to change how things were going. Get involved with establishing the government. Taeil… never wanted to stay in one place. He never cared much for politics. So we went our separate ways.”  

 

“I see…” Taeyong chews his lip, a sign he wants to ask more. “Do you know where he is? Is he still alive?”

 

“Oh, he’s very much alive. Every couple of years I get a postcard.” Taeyong laughs softly, amused. “As far as I know, these days he’s somewhere on the other side of the country. He’s taken up potion-making, apparently.” Youngho sighs. “He always asks me to come with him.”

 

“You don’t want to go?”

 

Youngho shrugs. “I’ve thought about it many times. This lifestyle I lead has a lot of burdens. I spent a lot of time wondering what it would be like to just… disappear.”

 

“Then why don’t you?” Taeyong won’t meet his gaze, the corners of his lips pulled down. “Would that make you happy?”

 

“No,” Youngho says firmly. It’s not something he even has to think about anymore. He’s glad he followed the path that he did; he knows he’s doing what he believes to be right. He wouldn’t be able to live any other way. And recently, there is one more aspect of his life that makes it worth living.

 

“If I left, I wouldn’t have met you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u as always to lynnie n bon for helping me with the story ;; 
> 
> please let me know what you all think of this chapter!! you can find me @taewinnies on tumblr ^^ have a lovely week <3


	4. fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> youngho is a lying liar who lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taeyong's outfit is inspired by his pink cherry bomb teaser pics  
> actually this whole au is inspired by his pink cherry bomb teaser pics

It’s not until after Youngho has wished Taeyong a good night, and the human closed the door, that he stands in the hallway, and everything he said today hits him full force. His eyes widen at the porcelain vase placed innocuously across from him, his words swirling in his head at high speed. 

 

He looks from one side to the other, because it feels like the gods themselves are looking down at him, laughing. 

 

“What have I done?” Youngho mutters to himself, ignoring his bedroom and stomping down the hallway to his study. The familiarity of the space does nothing to ease his mind, and he sinks down in his chair, leaning forward on the desk, chin resting in his hands. 

 

The feelings had creeped up on Youngho, coloring his actions and words, until they hit him all at once, and now he’s saying too many things, laying his heart out before he has time to even consider the consequences and worry that Taeyong might take it and tear it to pieces. 

 

No, Taeyong would never be so cruel. He might pick it up and hand it back nicely, muttering platitudes and apologies. Youngho winces at the gruesome metaphor, and shakes his head to rid himself of it. 

 

Youngho was too obvious. That much he knew. A man-- a  _ vampire-- _ of his stature was not prone to saying sickly sweet things, promising a lifetime of friendship and love. No, he was Youngho Seo, cruel, ruthless, and coldhearted. He was Youngho Seo-- stupid and in love with a lovely, strange human named Taeyong Lee and there was little he could do to help himself. 

 

Yes, he had been too obvious all this time. In hindsight, considering all of the transparent, and frankly stupid, things Youngho had said to him and done for him, there was no way Taeyong wasn’t aware of his feelings. And yet, the human had not made any indication of acknowledging them. 

 

“It’s a clear sign, of course,” he mumbles to himself, glaring at the couch directly in front of him-- the place where Taeyong had sat that first time, smiled at him and twisted his hands nervously, and Youngho had forgotten about blood, about their agreement, and just wanted to touch. He wanted to cradle Taeyong’s precious face and kiss his hair and apologize for frightening him. 

 

Youngho wanted to touch him, hold him, take care of him. He didn’t want Taeyong to have to lift a finger again in his life, but he would never voice these thoughts, because it would make Taeyong annoyed.  _ Doesn’t he know? _ Youngho laments.  _ Doesn’t he know how much I love him? _

 

Taeyong is cruel. Cruel for rendering Youngho a hopeless fool. But the minute the thought crosses his mind, he dismisses it. Taeyong and cruel do not belong in the same sentence. It is Youngho who is cruel, to himself, for falling for the first person to show him attention and affection. 

 

Then again, it’s not just that. It was true, Taeyong had awoken emotions in Youngho that he’d never felt. Taeyong had been the first to truly and genuinely praise him, to see him like a person rather than an elusive figure in the shadows, to be feared. 

 

And yet, Taeyong never listens to him. He is stubborn and snarky and strange and makes it his mission to annoy Youngho at every opportunity. He works himself to the bone and cares for others more than he cares for himself, and cannot see the radiant beauty that burns bright inside him. Youngho is constantly blinded by his light. 

 

And Youngho is the cruel one-- cruel for believing, even for a second, that Taeyong could love someone like him. Matters of the heart had never been Youngho’s strong suit. He’d never been in love. For his three thousand years, he’d had strings of lovers, but he had never felt the full force of that consuming, everlasting love that so many poets had spoken of. He doesn’t deserve it. 

 

Youngho supposes he needs to tell Taeyong. He  _ must _ know, but has to hear it from Youngho too. Then he could make a decision-- if Taeyong could overlook Youngho’s feelings, he might stay. If the feelings made him uncomfortable, he could leave, and never have to look at Youngho again. 

 

And the mere thought of Taeyong leaving, of not being by Youngho’s side, creates a sharp stab of pain in his stomach, and he has to close his eyes and try not to suffocate from it. 

 

Before he can continue to steep in his misery, there is a knock on the door. Doyoung comes in, clipboard in hand, and pauses in his steps when he notices Youngho’s somber face. 

 

“Was I interrupting your brooding time, your Majesty?” he asks wryly. Youngho barely hears the words, frowning at the couch. 

 

“What is it, Doyoung?” 

 

The vampire approaches Youngho carefully, face drawn, like he knows where Youngho’s thoughts have been wandering. “There is a… situation. With the parliament, your Majesty.” 

 

“What’s happening?”

 

Doyoung sighs, resigned. “They are… unhappy with your choice of Eunjae’s successor.”

 

Youngho feels irritation brewing in his stomach. He had a feeling this would happen, that the parliament would oppose his decision. Eunjae had been middle-of-the-road in his ways-- he listened to Youngho’s orders (generally), while still pandering to the superiority complex and indulgent lifestyle that most old vampires preferred. The new king, Junmyeon, is young. He’s more liberal, and genuinely agrees with Youngho’s decisions. 

 

He closes his eyes, rubbing his temple. “When do we leave?” 

 

“In a few hours, your Majesty. The sooner the better-- they’re threatening a coup.” 

 

At that, Youngho snorts. How foolish of them. He suspects the minute he steps foot on the parliament floor, the opposers will lose the courage to say a word. Then, a thought occurs to him, and he snaps his eyes open. “Doyoung. I want you to stay here.” 

 

Doyoung frowns. “Your Majesty?” 

 

“Taeyong is here, and I want you to make sure he is cared for. I don’t want him to be here alone…” 

 

Doyoung opens his mouth to protest, but stops himself, noticing Youngho’s downtrodden state. He bows his head. “Yes, your Majesty.” Then, “I will arrange for a car.” 

 

Youngho hums absentmindedly, and stares despondently at the patterns on the wood of his table until Doyoung leaves. When he’s sure Doyoung is out of earshot, he lets out a deep sigh. 

 

_ Why can’t I just brood in peace? _

 

\--

 

Youngho stands in front of Taeyong’s door and contemplates knocking or going straight inside. Taeyong was surely asleep, and Youngho doesn’t want to wake him, so with great care, he turns the handle and slips through the door. 

 

He pads softly through the room to the bed, where Taeyong is currently swaddled in blankets, and fast asleep. Youngho can’t help the soft smile that tugs at his lips. Taeyong looks painfully adorable like this, face soft and peaceful, pink lips pulled into a pout, half his face squished into a pillow. 

 

He sits carefully at the edge of the bed to admire the sleeping human’s form.  _ Just for a moment, _ he convinces himself. Before Youngho can even register his own movements, he’s reaching out carefully to pat Taeyong’s hair, soft and spread out like a halo. He jerks back in horror and curses himself when Taeyong stirs.

 

“Youngho?” Taeyong croaks, eyes still half-closed in sleep.

 

“I apologize for waking you,” Youngho whispers. Taeyong shakes his head, dismissive, and pushes himself up. 

 

“I’m a light sleeper,” he says as an explanation, and rubs his eyes. He blinks at Youngho, eyebrows pulled into a contemplative frown. “What’s wrong?” Youngho blinks at him. Taeyong is dressed in a flimsy, threadbare tank top, too stretched out for his form. The left strap falls off his shoulder, and the way he’d sat up pulls the fabric down, revealing pronounced collarbones and tantalizing sternum. 

 

“Letter,” Youngho says stupidly, holding out the envelope in his hand. “I meant to just leave it and go.” Taeyong takes it tentatively and observes it. 

 

“Is this  _ wax-sealed? _ ” 

 

Youngho shrugs. “Call me old-fashioned.” With great effort, he tears his gaze away from Taeyong’s skin, up to his eyes. 

 

“What’s going on, Youngho?” Taeyong asks, fully awake now. 

 

Youngho sighs. “There are some… issues with the parliament. I need to go immediately before they revolt.” He smiles bitterly. 

 

“Oh.” Taeyong frowns, playing with the hem of his duvet. “Does it have to do with… the king stuff?” Youngho wants to laugh at the human’s word choice. 

 

“Yes, unfortunately.” 

 

Taeyong scoots forward, wrapping his arms around Youngho’s side, and nuzzles into his neck, bold from sleep. Youngho’s heart threatens mutiny, slamming against his ribs. Taeyong’s scent envelopes him, the warmth from his body bleeding through Youngho’s coat to his skin. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. 

 

Youngho takes a steadying breath. “It’s not your fault, love.” 

 

Taeyong presses his face to Youngho’s shoulder. “I’m still sorry. How long will you be gone?”

 

Youngho is right next to Taeyong, but his chest still fills with inexplicable longing. “A few days, perhaps.” Taeyong hums. “I’m sorry I have to leave you alone. But my home and everything in it are yours. And Doyoung will be happy to get you anything you need.” 

 

Taeyong snorts, pulling away to smile at Youngho. “I’m sure he’s thrilled.” Youngho finds himself mirroring the grin. Taeyong reaches up to run his fingers through Youngho’s hair, careful and tender. “Be careful, please?” 

 

Youngho resists the urge to close his eyes and melt into Taeyong. He could let days slip away in this embrace. “I’m always careful, darling.” 

 

“I know but… still. I have to tell you.” Youngho hums and lets himself be petted for a few seconds more, before taking Taeyong’s wrist and tugging it away. He brings Taeyong’s fingers to his mouth and kisses them softly. He relishes the feeling of Taeyong’s skin against his mouth, and wonders idly what the rest of him would taste like. Taeyong blinks at him, cheeks pink. 

 

“I’ll come back to you quickly, I promise.” 

 

“P-pinky promise?” 

 

Youngho grins, linking their pinkies, before twisting their hands to press their thumbs together. Taeyong smiles softly, and Youngho leans in to kiss his forehead. “Pinky promise.” 

 

\--

 

“Doyoung is this really necessary?” Taeyong asks, shooting the vampire in the corner a pleading look. He’s standing on a circular podium with his arms out as Irene, a elven seamstress, fusses around him with a measuring tape. “My arms hurt.” 

 

Doyoung doesn’t even look up from his laptop. “Yes. His Majesty ordered for me to have something prepared for you for the Winter Solstice.” 

 

Taeyong yelps when Irene pricks him with a pin. “Why can’t I just pick something from the clothes I already have?” 

 

“His Majesty does not trust your ability to make appropriate wardrobe choices for important events.” 

 

“Dumbass,” Taeyong mutters, and both Doyoung and Irene pause, looking at him like he’d said something blasphemous. “What?” 

 

Doyoung shakes his head discretely at Irene, who goes back to work, and the vampire looks back at the screen of his computer, eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?” Taeyong asks. Doyoung ignores him.“You know, you don’t have to be here if you’re so busy.” 

 

The vampire looks up, grimacing. “Trust me when I say I did not anticipate having to babysit a human as one of my job requirements.” 

 

Taeyong scowls. “I don’t need to be… baby _ sat. _ ” 

 

Doyoung eyes him. “That is… debatable.” 

 

Taeyong jeers at him, and turns when Irene prods him with a hand. It’s silent for a while, and he itches to ask how Youngho is doing. Before he can even open his mouth, Doyoung beats him to it. 

 

“You know, you can ask what he’s doing. His Majesty gave me orders to answer any questions you might have.” 

 

Taeyong smiles involuntarily, glad Doyoung can’t see him.  _ Typical Youngho. _ “How is he? Is he safe?” 

 

“The only thing he is in danger of is getting a migraine. I believe he will be back within the next day or two.” 

 

“Oh, that’s good.” There are a lot more questions Taeyong wants to ask, but he refrains, because he’s certain Doyoung will only continue to judge him further. He chooses something safe instead. “So… is this… Winter Solstice thing like, a big deal?” He raises a leg when Irene prompts him to, and wobbles dangerously. 

 

“Yes, it is, _ like, _ a big deal.” Taeyong knows Doyoung is mocking him, and he rolls his eyes. He can’t help but be reminded of Yuta, and their constant banter. Doyoung is different-- where Yuta is reckless and smug, Doyoung is meticulous, more careful with his jibes, and quick to hide his satisfaction. Taeyong can’t help but appreciate the vampire for that. He hopes Doyoung and Yuta never meet. 

 

“It is the single most effective peacekeeping event in our society. Every important representative from each species will be there. Your presence there will not go unnoticed, so I implore you to take care in your words and actions. No offense, of course.” 

 

Taeyong rolls his eyes, forcing himself not to be hurt. He had so many questions for Youngho, one of the most important being the issue of him being a Blood Singer, and whether that would bring unnecessary attention to them. That was the last thing Taeyong wanted. 

 

“I have put in a great deal of effort into this, I will not see it hindered.” Taeyong can sense a threat when he hears one. 

 

“Yeah sure, Doyoung. I’ll try my best to not start a world war.” 

 

Doyoung scoffs and goes back to frantically typing. Despite being crass, Taeyong can’t help but admire the vampire. In the last few days, he’d spent his days going out with his friends and wandering the castle. There was always something happening on the first floor, florists and contractors and designers moving in and out; Doyoung was always in the thick of it, barking out orders, never missing a beat.

 

The main hall where the Winter Solstice was supposed to take place is a large, grand space, with floor to ceiling doors lining opposite walls and framed by velvet curtains. Opulent crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings, but they were always covered in sheets, until now. Everything was transforming slowly, carefully, into something that Taeyong could only imagine in a movie, and it as all the work of Doyoung.

 

“I’m excited to see how it’ll look when everything’s done,” Taeyong says. Doyoung just hums. Taeyong sighs, rolling his eyes again. It seemed Doyoung only paid attention when it was convenient for him. 

 

\--

 

Taeyong senses Youngho before he actually sees him. He looks up from the tub of chocolate ice cream he’d been working through the last couple nights when he couldn’t sleep. As if attuned to everything Youngho, Taeyong recognizes his footsteps and perks up, dropping his spoon on the marble countertop. 

 

“Youngho!” Taeyong chirps happily, launching himself at Youngho. The vampire laughs, wrapping his arms around Taeyong and kissing his hair. 

 

“Hello darling,” he murmurs. Taeyong presses his face into Youngho’s chest, breathing in that warm, familiar scent of cologne and clean linen. There’s something else clinging to his skin, but Taeyong chalks it up to the fact that Youngho was somewhere else for the last few days. “Did you miss me?” 

 

Taeyong pulls away to grin. “Nope. I had so much fun with Doyoung that I didn’t even notice you were here.” He doesn’t expect Youngho’s face to fall the way it does. His eyes droop at the corners, and his face looks a little pale, and Taeyong scrambles to fix it. “I’m kidding, idiot.” He flicks Youngho’s forehead. “Of course I missed you.” 

 

The corners of Youngho’s lips tug up slightly, and he pulls Taeyong back into the hug. “Good. it would be embarrassing if you hadn’t. Because I missed you terribly.” 

 

Taeyong buries his smile into the fabric of Youngho’s button-down, and lets himself be held for a minute. “You don’t look so good, Youngho.” 

 

Youngho snorts. “It’s hard trying to reason with idiots. I’m a bit drained.” 

 

Taeyong pulls back, frowning. “Do you want to feed? It might help.” 

 

Youngho tilts his head, imploring. “Would you mind?” 

 

“Of course not,” Taeyong scoffs, tugging at Youngho’s sleeve. “Please?” Before he can even blink, he finds himself perched on the counter, with Youngho between his legs. He feels that familiar pull of deja vu, back to the second time Youngho ever fed from him, here in this kitchen. 

 

Taeyong remembers being nervous in Youngho’s presence. He thought he’d eventually get used to the vampire’s aura, the proximity of his handsome face so close to Taeyong’s own. Now, month later, Taeyong finds it even harder not to get lost in Youngho’s eyes, to stare at his lips. It’s as though with time, holding himself back only became more difficult. 

 

Youngho’s face is too close to his. The vampire’s eyes are a warm amber, the irises glinting under the muted kitchen lights, framed by pretty lashes. Taeyong’s eyes trace Youngho’s sharp cheekbones, smooth, even skin, down to the dip of his Cupid’s bow, unfairly deep. And that’s as far as Taeyong can allow himself to go tonight. 

 

“Youngho,” Taeyong murmurs, because the vampire is makes no indication of moving. Taeyong wants to get this over with, because the longer he has to stay in this position, the weaker he becomes. That sharp stab of longing is excruciating, and he wonders how much longer he can take this before it all pours out of him, in a tumbled mess of words and confessions that are sure to face rejection. 

 

Youngho reaches up to brush his thumb against Taeyong’s cheekbone, eyebrows pulled into a contemplative frown. “I apologize…” he whispers, the conflict clear in his eyes. It makes Taeyong worry-- Youngho is never this distracted. It’s as if he’s somewhere else, in his mind. 

 

Taeyong pulls Youngho’s hand away from his face and tangles their fingers, pressing them to his chest. The motion is a well-practiced habit now, and Youngho leans in at the same time Taeyong tilts his head. 

 

Youngho’s nose brushes against Taeyong’s skin, and he bites his lip to keep from gasping. The skin where Youngho bites him only gets more and more sensitive. Youngho nuzzles his face into the familiar crook of Taeyong’s neck, and his lips linger on Taeyong’s skin for longer than usual, brushing back and forth, with just the slightest hint of tongue. 

 

When Youngho parts his lip, Taeyong brings his other hand to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck, tugging helplessly. Youngho’s own free hand finds Taeyong’s hip and grips tightly. And then, there is that sting of pain that Taeyong is so used to, and Youngho is suckling on his skin, pulling the life force from his body. 

 

Taeyong melts into Youngho’s frame, arching his neck more, scraping the skin of Youngho’s scalp with his fingers. His toes curl painfully, and he wants to moan-- anything to rid himself of the tightness in his chest, the ache in his bones that he has become too well-acquainted with over the last few months. He wants Youngho’s mouth on him, everywhere, not just his neck or his shoulder or his wrist. 

 

Taeyong’s mind has fizzled down to static when Youngho stops feeding, licking at the skin to let it heal. But instead of pulling back, he continues to press his lips against the skin, kissing behind Taeyong’s ear, under his jaw, and the ache becomes too much to bare. His thoughts blur into a dizzying mix of need and want. 

 

_ Why is he doing this? _ Taeyong wonders, tears prickling in his eyes from the intimacy.  _ Does he know? Does he know how I’m feeling? _ Then, Yuta’s words come back to him. Taeyong had denied their validity, and when Youngho had reacted disappointingly to his hair, Taeyong had taken any hope and crushed it. 

 

But with Youngho at his neck now, mouth hot against his skin like he’s a man starved, hope suddenly blooms in Taeyong’s chest, bright and unhindered. The force with which the realization hits him makes him lower his guard, and he lets out a startled moan, arching into Youngho’s chest. 

 

Youngho freezes, and the realization of what he’d had just done hits Taeyong full force. His cheeks burn bright, and in a flash, Youngho has put several feet between them, eyes wide, confused. 

 

“I am…  _ so _ sorry,” Youngho rasps, sharp canines retracting. Taeyong can see the struggle in his eyes, and he finds himself actively craving death form the sheer embarrassment. 

 

“N-no… you’re fine. I just…” He swallows thickly. 

 

“I don’t know what came over me--” They both say simultaneously, and then break out into startled, nervous laughter. Taeyong scratches his forehead, hands shaky with nerves. 

 

“I’m sorry. I got carried away,” he says, trying to get his face to stop stinging with the heat. He can’t look at Youngho. 

 

“So did I. I am sincerely sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” At that, Taeyong whips his head up. HIs heart lurches in his chest; Youngho looks like a kicked puppy. 

 

“Oh, god no. No, you’re fine. It’s fine. Everything is… fine.” Everything is not fine, but Taeyong will gladly pretend if it is for Youngho’s benefit. 

 

For what could be the first time in their relationship, an awkward silence stretches over them. Taeyong chews on his lip, letting his heart rate go back to normal. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the tub of ice cream, and he grabs it, stuffing a spoonful of it into his mouth. It’s a bit melted now, but does wonders to cool him down. 

 

“Is everything okay? You seem… distracted.” Taeyong dares to look at Youngho, who’s face is trained resolutely at his feet. Youngho looks up, face neutral, closed off, and it hurts Taeyong. It hurts knowing that Youngho isn’t telling him the truth. Whatever that truth might be. 

 

Youngho rakes his fingers through his hair, unkempt from Taeyong’s own hand, and there’s a dull throb in his bones as he thinks about how attractive that is. “Yes, I suppose I am. With the… Winter Solstice tomorrow and all.” His smile is forced when he directs it at Taeyong.

 

_ Right, _ Taeyong thinks bitterly.  _ The Winter Solstice. _ He shoves another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, before offering it to Youngho. A peace offering. “Me too,” he admits. Immediately, Youngho is at his side, a concerned frown pulling at his features. 

 

“What’s troubling you?” Stupid Youngho. Worried more about Taeyong’s state of mind than his own. He plucks the spoon out of Taeyong’s hand and takes a mouthful, immediately hissing. 

 

“What? What just happened,” Taeyong asks. 

 

Youngho swallows the bite, wincing. “Brain freeze,” he manages, and Taeyong laughs. 

 

“Idiot,” he murmurs, taking the spoon back. Yougho smiles sheepishly, and Taeyong is relieved that the air feels less tense. “I was thinking about tomorrow a lot. I just… don’t know why you’d want me here.” 

 

“Well, you would be coming as my companion. It would be odd if the host of the event doesn’t have a companion for the evening.” 

 

“Can’t you ask someone else? Who did you take in the past?” 

 

Youngho blinks at him. “I did not invite anyone in the past.” 

 

Taeyong’s eyes bulge. “You never… What the hell? Then why are you suddenly asking me?” 

 

Youngho shrugs, taking the spoon and digging out a chunk of ice cream. “Because you are here. And you are important to me.” 

 

“But… Doyoung told me how important this is. It clearly means a lot to you, what if I just hinder you? I mean, I’m just... what if I ruin something?”

 

Youngho pries the ice cream carton out of Taeyong’s hands and sets it down. Taeyong starts to protest, but quiets when he notices the seriousness of Youngho’s expression. The vampire takes his icy fingers between his hands. 

 

“You mean everything to me.” Taeyong’s heart lurches painfully against his chest. “I want you to be there, by my side, because you are important to me, and nothing you or anyone else says or does could make you less important to me. Do you understand?” 

 

Taeyong looks for anything in Youngho’s eyes to indicate that this is just some massive prank, that this gorgeous, funny, loveable man is telling him this, trying to put to rest all his insecurities, is all just a figment of his imagination. 

 

“O-okay,” Taeyong says, wobbly. The last fifteen minutes have been a rollercoaster of emotions and he’s having trouble keeping the tears from prickling his eyes. 

 

“You must understand that our relationship symbolizes something significant for our society. Our ability to get along is important. We will be showing the world that two people from different walks of life  _ can _ get along. Vampires and humans can care for each other.” 

 

Taeyong exhales shakily. “Everyone’s gonna know about us?” 

 

“Just that we are partners in this blood donor program, and that we are good friends. It will mean a lot to many people, and can change prejudices, Taeyong.” Taeyong tries not to be disappointed, because he feels like Youngho is skirting around the truth. How can he say intimate things about Taeyong meaning the world to him, and then turn around and be so unfeeling? It’s confusing and it hurts. 

 

“That’s… a lot of pressure. I didn’t sign up for any of this.” 

 

Youngho smiles sadly. “I know you didn’t. And I’m sorry that you are getting pulled into this. You can withdraw from this at any moment. But like I said, it would mean a lot to me, and many other people, if you attended.” 

 

Taeyong is silent for a while, staring at his lap, trying not to feel like an idiot and just think about what’s ahead. “One of the reasons I even wanted to go to medical school and become a doctor was so I could help people, you know? I wanted to save lives, change the world… all that stupid idealistic stuff.” 

  
“It’s not stupid, Taeyong.” 

 

“It feels stupid sometimes,” he admits, looking up to meet Youngho’s gaze. “It’s so easy to feel helpless when there’s so much other crap involved.” Taeyong sighs deeply, trying to steady himself. “If I go, will that help? Will that help people?” 

 

“Absolutely,” Youngho says without pausing. “You would be helping affect a change.” 

 

Taeyong purses his lips, trying to read any trace of a lie. There’s nothing there. “Okay. I’ll do it.” 

 

“You must also know that attending by my side comes with certain dangers. There are many people out there who would like to see me eliminated, and the fastest way to get to me would be to get to you.” Taeyong swallows thickly. “If that is something you are afraid of, then I will never force you to come. I want you to be safe. But if your hesitations lie in… other things, the I would ask you to reconsider.” 

 

“I-I’m not afraid.” And it is the truth. Taeyong doesn’t want to involve himself with politics that he knows nothing about. He knows there is a degree of risk being seen with Youngho, and yet, he has no fear. The safest he has felt in his entire life is by Youngho’s side. He is, of course, apprehensive, but he knows Youngho will keep him from getting hurt. 

 

“Good,” Youngho says, leaning forward to kiss Taeyong’s forehead. His eyes drift closed, and he feels like he’s floating, drained of energy. “I will not allow anyone to harm you. I would lay down my life before I saw you hurt.” 

 

Taeyong huffs out a laugh, giving Youngho a lopsided grin. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” 

 

“It is still the truth.” And Taeyong is stunned by Youngho’s continuous sincerity. How did this happen? How did they become this way? Too honest with each other and yet, toeing around something more. 

 

“I believe you.” In that moment, Taeyong becomes hyperaware of how close they’d gotten. Youngho had put several feet of distance between them, and yet they found themselves in the same place as before-- faces just breathes apart, hands tangled. As though no matter how far apart they are, they will always find their way back. Maybe in that way, they were meant for each other. 

 

“Good,” Youngho murmurs, and Taeyong notices his eyes drifting down to his lips.  _ Would he? _ Taeyong wonders.  _ Would Youngho kiss me? Right now? _

 

Youngho seems to snap out of whatever daze he was in, because he clears his throat loudly (obnoxiously), and steps back slightly. Taeyong tries his hardest not to be annoyed and disappointed. “Now that that’s cleared up, you should head to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day.” 

 

Taeyong pouts, hopping off the counter. He laments the fact that now, he’s barely eye-level to Youngho’s chest. The vampire takes his hand and they walk upstairs together. 

 

“What were you up to while I was gone?” 

 

Taeyong swings their hands and smiles. “I hung out with my friends a lot. I’ve been reading a book I found in your library.” Taeyong had stumbled upon the room during one of his excursions of the castle. He felt like he’d been transported into a scene in his childhood dreams, surrounded by several stories of books lining the walls. Youngho’s home continued to amaze him in its size and grandeur. 

 

“Doyoung didn’t give you any trouble?” Youngho smiles wryly. 

 

“I got a couple eye rolls but that’s about it.” 

 

Youngho hums. “We can only expect so much.” Taeyong giggles, and they walk in silence until they reach the hallway separating their respective suites. Taeyong wonders whether he could feign nightmares or loneliness and make Youngho cuddle him to sleep. He feels foolish immediately. 

 

\--

 

Youngho taps his foot impatiently, waiting outside Taeyong’s door. The careful lull of the orchestra bleeds up through the walls, and Youngho knows that almost everyone is already here. He’d made his rounds, said his greetings. The last person he needs to account for is Taeyong. 

 

“Your Majesty, are you absolutely certain this is a good idea?” Doyoung asks, looking equal parts annoyed and anticipatory. He’d taken it up personally to have Taeyong’s clothes designed, and refused to let Youngho see them until everything was perfect. Youngho suspects this is the most fun Doyoung has had in a long time. “The human… is it safe for him?” 

 

Truthfully, it comes with great risk. Both Doyoung and Youngho know this. “Eunjae said something to me, that day. That I was a hypocrite when there was a human present in my home. I think the best thing I can do, as a leader, is live by my beliefs. I want to ensure peace, and there is no better way to show this than to have Taeyong by my side. People need to know that vampires and humans  _ can _ be friends.” 

 

Doyoung fixes him with a glare. “Yes, your Majesty. I’m certain everyone will be able to witness the extent of your platonic relationship.” 

 

Youngho gets the feeling that there is something underlying Doyoung’s words. However, he has never been the best at discerning sarcasm, so he does what he he’s been doing for two centuries and chooses to ignore Doyoung. 

 

“I want him to be comfortable,” Youngho says. “Keep an eye on him.” He turns to Doyoung, who is mildly taken aback by the ferocity in Youngho’s eyes. “No harm will come to him. We must ensure it.” 

 

Doyoung nods his head and realizes he may have severely miscalculated the breadth of his master’s feelings for the human. “Of course, your Majesty.” 

 

Before they can say anything else, Taeyong’s door opens slowly, and the human peeks his head out. “I’m coming out now,” he warns. 

 

“Hurry up, darling. I want to see,” Youngho says, excited. His wide grin drops the minute Taeyong steps out, holding his arms out as though to present himself. He’s dressed in a billowy white satin blouse, the wide, loose sleeves visible through the deep blue velvet military-style overcoat with gold accents, and tucked into slim-fitting black trousers. His pink hair had been styled away from his forehead, and there was what looked like brown eyeliner smudged around the rims of his eyes. 

 

“Youngho, I look like a  _ pirate _ ,” Taeyong whine, but Youngho can’t respond, not when the air has been suitably knocked from his lungs. It seemed that every day, Taeyong managed to surprise Youngho with his ethereal beauty and allure. He doesn’t know whether to thank Doyoung or kill him for knowing exactly how to dress Taeyong and style him. Maybe he did it on purpose, as revenge for all the times Youngho made his job harder. 

 

Compared to Youngho, Taeyong has always been small, but the way he is dressed makes him seem even more petite, hugging his lean, slim figure. He looks like something out of a dream. Youngho cannot be sure his knees can continue to support his weight. 

 

“You--” Youngho swallows, trying to rid his mouth of the dryness. Taeyong frowns, clearly confused by Youngho’s silence.  _ Doesn’t he know that he is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen? _ “You look… stunning.” 

 

“Huh?” Taeyong almost stumbles back as Youngho steps forward, raking his body up and down with a fire in his eyes. Neither of them notice Doyoung rounding the corner, walking away to give them privacy. 

 

“Absolutely breathtaking,” Youngho murmurs, winded and losing himself. He takes Taeyong’s hand and kisses the knuckles gently. Taeyong takes a sharp breath, color spreading across his cheeks. 

 

“Th-thanks.” Taeyong ducks his head down in embarrassment. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Youngho looks down at his own clothes, closely mirroring Taeyong’s own, though his overcoat is a deep black velvet. 

 

“We match,” Youngho says, grinning when Taeyong looks up at him. It would be terribly easy to lean down and kiss him, to press him against the wall and ravish him, and Youngho aches to, with a desire he’s never quite felt before. He stops himself before he does something stupid. “I have something for you.” 

 

Taeyong raises an eyebrow, and Youngho reaches into his pocket, holding out a necklace in front of Taeyong. The chain is made of thin gold, and supports a single white diamond, pulsating with light. “What is that?” he asks, eyes wide with awe. 

 

Youngho steps behind him to place the chain around Taeyong’s neck, clasping it in place. “You do not live three thousand years and not make friends with a few warlocks along the way,” Youngho explains. Taeyong touches the amulet, sitting against his sternum. 

 

“It’s charmed to negate any scents you may have.” 

 

“You mean--”

 

“No one will know that you are a Blood Singer. Actually, no one should be able to even tell you are human.” Youngho pauses, taking a deep breath. The scent of Taeyong’s skin, when it is not wrapped around the tantalizing hum of his human blood, is soft and sweet, like lavender and freesia. Youngho’s heart twists with longing. 

 

“Won’t that be like… really suspicious?” 

 

Youngho hums. “Only people who focus too much will be able to even notice that you don’t have a scent. It will make it easier to avoid questions. Not to mention, most everyone knows you’re a human anyway.” 

 

Taeyong takes the necklace and tucks it under his blouse, away from prying eyes. He smiles up at Youngho. “Thank you. I feel a lot better now.”

 

“In that case, are you ready?” Youngho offers his arm, and Taeyong takes it with a shaky breath. 

 

“As I'll ever be.”

 

\--

 

“Youngho…” Taeyong murmurs, tugging at the vampire’s sleeve once they enter the main hall. Youngho hums and tilts his head so Taeyong can whisper. “Remember when I made you marathon all the Harry Potter movies?” he asks, eyes wide as he takes in the grandeur of the space and the glamour of the people moving inside it. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“You know the Goblet of Fire? Where they have the Yule Ball?” Taeyong’s eyes dart around, overwhelmed. “This looks like the Yule Ball.” 

 

Youngho straightens up and takes in the shining crystal chandeliers, the ice sculptures, the small orchestra tucked into a corner, the sheer gossamer curtains framing the French doors. Doyoung had outdone himself this year. “Yes, I suppose it does.” 

 

Taeyong’s hand tightens around Youngho’s bicep. “Oh my god there are so many people,” he mumbles, nervous. There are some familiar faces-- ones Taeyong has only ever seen on television. Everyone seems to know each other with the way they all make rounds, smiling and laughing, and that makes him the outsider. 

 

“Deep breaths, darling. Deep breaths,” Youngho murmurs soothingly, and Taeyong nods, inhaling and exhaling. 

 

“Okay, I can do this.” He smiles tightly at Youngho, who then leads them out of the shadows of the threshold and into the hall. The din of conversation goes down just enough for Taeyong to notice, and suddenly there are too many pairs of eyes on him and Youngho. 

 

“Your Majesty!” Taeyong jumps a little when a petite woman dressed in a black velvet pantsuit approaches, cheeks plump and pink, eyes kind. 

 

Youngho smiles immediately, taking the woman’s hand and kissing it politely. Taeyong’s eyes widen when he realizes who this is. “President Kang, I hope you’re enjoying your evening.” 

 

President Kang beams at Youngho. “Of course I am. And my husband is enjoying the hors d-oeuvres.” They both laugh good-naturedly, before her attention turns to Taeyong. “Hello dear, you’re Taeyong Lee, are you not?” 

 

Taeyong’s eyes widen and he looks at Youngho in panic. “Yes, I-I am.” President Kang offers her hand and Taeyong shakes it, hoping his palms aren’t too sweaty. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam President.” 

 

“Oh please,” she scoffs, waving her hand dismissively. “Please, call me Seulgi.” Taeyong tries valiantly not to freak out. “I’ve been hearing quite a bit about you from your friend Yuta. I was wondering if you could spare a moment, I would love to discuss the blood donor program with you so we can iron out any issues before we expand--” 

 

“Madam President, I believe tonight is for celebrating, not working?” Youngho raises an eyebrow, and President Kang grins sheepishly at him and Taeyong. 

 

“It’s hard to shut that part of my brain off, you know.” She places a hand on Taeyong’s arm. “But really, dear. I would love if we could chat sometime soon. I’d love to hear about your experience.” 

 

“Y-yes, that would be lovely,” Taeyong stammers. 

 

President Kang beams. “Perfect. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure my husband hasn’t eaten all the crab cakes.” She shares an exasperated look with Youngho, before beaming at Taeyong. “It was lovely to meet you, Taeyong. Let’s be in touch.” 

 

“A-absolutely--” And in the blink of an eye, she’s gone, and Taeyong blinks at Youngho. “What just happened? Did I just meet the president?” 

 

Youngho purses his lips to stop the smile. “Yes you did. And she likes you very much.” 

 

Taeyong furrows his eyebrows. “How can she like me? We only talked for like thirty seconds.” 

 

“She’s extremely good at reading people. And she’s very invested in you and our arrangement-- she is the mastermind behind it, after all. You are helping pave the way for better human-vampire relations.” 

 

“H-huh?” 

 

Youngho raises an eyebrow, turning to face Taeyong fully. “Think about it, darling. This blood donor program is nothing short of… revolutionary. And the fact that you and I have the relationship that we do is very important to everyone in this room, who are working towards peace.” 

 

Taeyong chews on his lip, feeling a sudden pressure on his shoulders. “Youngho, I told you I don’t want to be involved in politics.” 

 

“And you’re not. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But I want you to know. Your presence here symbolizes peace and unity. No one is here to judge you. Tonight, you are just as important as myself or President Kang.” 

 

Taeyong feels the anxiety curling in his stomach. “What if I don’t want to be important? Why can’t I just be ordinary? I don’t do well with attention, Youngho, you know that. I don’t even  _ know _ any of these people--” 

 

Youngho takes Taeyong’s shaking hands between his. “Oh darling, nothing about you is ordinary. You are so special, and you always have been. Don’t be scared, I’m right here. I’m with you.” 

 

Taeyong closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.  _ I can do this. I can do this, for Youngho. _ “Okay, I’m good. No more meltdowns. I’m fine.” 

 

Youngho smiles softly. “Good. But remember, if at any time, things get to be too much--”

 

“I don’t have to be here. I know.” Taeyong smiles, and it feels a bit more genuine. Before they can continue the conversation, a man dressed regally steps up to them. 

 

“Oh, Junmyeon,” Youngho says cordially. The man smiles comfortably, bowing his head. 

 

“Your Majesty. I heard we had a guest of honor, and felt introductions were in order?” 

 

“Yes, of course. Junmyeon, this is Taeyong. Taeyong, this is Junmyeon, the new vampire king.” 

 

Taeyong takes half a second to freak out before plastering a smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says sweetly, holding out his hand to shake. His eyes widen when Junmyeon takes it and kisses it instead, bowing deeply. 

 

“The pleasure is all mine. It is good to finally meet the person causing quite a storm in our circles.” Junmyeon and Youngho laugh, and Taeyong tries not to panic. “The good kind of storm, of course. It’s nice to see a fire under the asses of old, stubborn men, don’t you think so, your Majesty?” 

 

“I’m certainly enjoying watching it,” Youngho replies, and Taeyong bites his lip to hide his amusement. From what Youngho had told him earlier in the day, Junmyeon was kind, humble, and had been through far too much in his short time as a vampire thus far. He is the closest thing Youngho has to a friend, and so Taeyong sees no reason why he shouldn’t trust the vampire as well. 

 

“How are you enjoying the night so far, Taeyong?” Junmyeon asks, eyes kind. Taeyong feels comfortable around him-- Junmyeon has an aura similar to Youngho in that regard, and that is perhaps why they get along. 

 

“Honestly, I haven’t been able to do much so far, but everything is… beautiful,” he says honestly. 

 

“We have Doyoung to thank for that, do we not?” 

 

Taeyong leans in as if to divulge a secret. “Don’t tell him that, it’ll make him an even bigger pain in the ass.” 

 

Junmyeon laughs at that, loud and booming, and Taeyong finds himself grinning. “I understand why Youngho is so enraptured by you now.” 

 

“Junmyeon…” Youngho warns. Junmyeon smiles, eyes brimming with mirth. 

 

“I believe he has the right to know.” Junmyeon turns to Taeyong. “He spent most of our free time at court talking about you. I didn’t know how to get him to stop, truthfully. I feel like I know just as much about you as he does--”

 

“That’s  _ quite _ enough, Junmyeon,” Youngho says, voice low and threatening, though there is a telltale pink tinting his cheeks. 

 

Taeyong laughs, reaching up to pinch Youngho’s cheek. “Aw, he’s blushing,” he coos. 

 

“Taeyong…” Youngho all but whines. “You’re embarrassing me.” His eyes snap to Junmyeon, and he glares. “And  _ you, _ I could have you beheaded for treason.” 

 

Junmyeon beams, clearly unhindered by Youngho’s threat “Yes, your Majesty. I’m sure Taeyong would be very happy with you then.” 

 

Youngho narrows his eyes. “I hate you both.” 

 

“Taeyong, I hope you will save a dance for me this evening?” Junmyeon asks. 

 

“Dance?” He shoots Youngho a panicked look. “I don’t know how to dance,” he explains to Junmyeon. “I’d probably step on your feet all night.” 

 

“It would be an  _ honor _ if you would step on my feet,” Junmyeon says sincerely, and kisses Taeyong hand again. He laughs, a little embarrassed and amused, but mostly grateful for Junmyeon for ridding him of the last of his nerves. He grins at Youngho, who looks a little sour. 

 

“Your Highness, your Majesty.” Doyoung walks briskly towards them, dressed in what Taeyong can only describe as Renaissance attire. It is odd seeing Doyoung without his clipboard or phone, but he is wearing an inconspicuous earpiece. Taeyong wonders whether he will ever stop working. 

 

“Alpha Jung would like a word with you both.” He eyes Taeyong warily. “Privately.” 

 

“I don’t want to leave Taeyong alone--”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Taeyong says, a firm hand on Youngho’s arm. “You go do what you need to do. You don’t need to babysit me all night.” 

 

Youngho frowns, clearly conflicted. “Your heard him, your Majesty. I’m certain Taeyong is more than capable of taking care of himself,” Junmyeon says, and Taeyong smiles at him gratefully. 

 

“I’ll only be a few moments,” Youngho promises, and Taeyong rolls his eyes. 

 

“Don’t rush. I don’t need you breathing down my neck all night, mom.” Junmyeon snorts, and Youngho frowns, but allows himself to be led away by Doyoung. Taeyong watches them disappear into the crowd of people, and then realizes belatedly that he’s all alone. Normally, in these situations, he would pull out his phone and maybe pretend to play games in a corner, but somehow he thinks that might be inappropriate to do here. That, and he left his phone charging in his suite. 

 

He trails his eyes around the room, trying to look inconspicuous, and sighs in relief when he noticed the long table along one wall, piled high with treats.  _ Food. Food is good. _ He sets his shoulders back and makes his way over. He hadn’t eaten all day from the nerves, and now he feels the full brunt of that hunger. 

 

He almost whimpers when he sees the beautiful display of tea cakes, macarons, and other desserts. Taeyong always had a penchant for sweet things, and the most difficult problem he has now is deciding what to eat first. 

 

He’s just about to put an eclair in his mouth when hands squeeze his waist, and he lets out a squeak, jumping, before whipping around to see the unfortunate face of Yuta Nakamoto. 

 

“You  _ ass, _ I almost dropped my food,” Taeyong hisses, and Yuta smirks, smug as always. 

 

“Now wouldn’t that have been a tragedy,” he drawls. Taeyong rolls his eyes. “You clean up pretty nice, Lee.” 

 

“Not too shabby yourself, Nakamoto.” Yuta is dressed in a black and white suit, equal parts theatrical and elegant. Taeyong had noticed that representatives of the different species, whether Fae or shifter or vampire, had a specific way of dress. He had seen a few fairies in sparkling dresses, with leaf and flower embroidery on the fabric, while vampires had a more formal, almost Victorian mode of dress. 

 

This is the cleanest Taeyong has ever seen Yuta. He narrows his eyes. “Are you wearing colored contacts? What a tryhard.” 

 

Yuta huffs. “At least I don’t look like I’m about to set sail on the Black Pearl.” 

 

“Ha ha.” Taeyong turns back to the food. “I can’t believe they even let you in through the door.” 

 

Yuta scoffs, slinging his arm around Taeyong’s shoulder. “Wow, banging vampire royalty has given you a superiority complex.” 

 

Taeyong slaps the back of his hand against Yuta’s stomach. “Stop saying stupid shit. It’s not like that…” 

 

“Oh, holy shit. So he really hasn’t made a move? He's a hard nut to crack, no pun intended,” Yuta murmurs, eyebrows raised. “He still hasn’t said anything? What about the hair and that stuff?”

 

Taeyong glares at the tower of cream puffs. “Nothing. It’s like… he says all this stuff that’s romantic and sappy but then he makes it all platonic and I  _ know _ he’s lying. Like even now, he asked me to come as his stupid  _ companion _ because it would help  _ affect a change. _ Why couldn’t he just ask me to be his date like a normal person?” 

 

Taeyong inhales sharply, realizing he’d unloaded a lot onto his friend. He’d spent all night tossing and turning, thinking about this, and even though it all came out in a messy jumble, he’s glad to have it off his chest. He knows Yuta will understand. 

 

“Because he’s in love with you.” Both Taeyong and Yuta turn around to face the owner of the voice-- Taeyong immediately recognizes the person as Sicheng Dong, one of the three Seelie princes. He’s tall and lean, elegant in a way that Taeyong didn’t know could exist until now. The prince tilts his head, smiling mischievously, and Taeyong is reminded, suddenly, of Donghyuck.

 

“I apologize for interrupting. I just couldn’t help but overhear the conversation, and felt the need to step in. I’m Sicheng.” 

 

Taeyong blinks, before spurring himself to respond. “I’m--”

 

“Taeyong Lee, I know.” 

 

“And  _ I’m _ Yuta Nakamoto, but you can call me whatever you like,” Yuta says, winking. Taeyong resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

 

“It’s a pleasure,” Sicheng says, barely sparing him a glance before looking at Taeyong again. “It is very fascinating to finally put a face to the name that’s been whispered all night.” Sensing Taeyong’s alarm, “Not that that’s a bad thing.” 

 

“That’s a relief… I guess?” Taeyong laughs nervously. Sicheng looks at him like he’s reading his mind, and Taeyong remembers idly something about not being able to lie to a Seelie. “How do... you know Youngho is in love with me?” 

 

Sicheng tilts his head curiously. “Because you’re here,” he says as if it’s obvious. “Youngho Seo is a very private man. The fact that he wants you here today means you’re important to him in a way that perhaps even he doesn’t realize.” 

 

“Not that it’s any of  _ your _ business...” Yuta mutters, and Sicheng looks at him sharply. 

 

“I am only trying to help. Matters of the heart are complicated, and Youngho Seo is a complicated man. It is clear to everyone his feelings for you. Do you love him, Taeyong Lee?” 

 

“I--” Taeyong doesn’t know what compels him to be honest with Sicheng, whom he has not known for more than a few minutes. Perhaps it is the ability of faerie folk to draw the truth from those around them. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” 

 

“Again, not that it’s  _ your _ business--  _ ow, _ ” Yuta hisses when Taeyong pinches him. 

 

“There are many people who would like to see Youngho Seo gone. None of them are in this room. There is not a person here who wants to keep him from happiness. Perhaps you do not think it is my place, but Youngho Seo’s business is everyone’s business. I just happened to say it out loud.” 

 

“I… appreciate your honesty, your Highness,” Taeyong says uncertainly.

 

“I sense that he will open his heart to you soon,” Sicheng says vaguely, and smiles. Taeyong returns it, a little wary.  _ What a strange kid, _ he thinks. “Until we meet again, Taeyong Lee.” He raises his eyebrow at Yuta, still smiling pleasantly, though now it is clearly fake. “I forgot your name. Goodbye.” 

 

“Oh my god, that was so hot,” Yuta says, eyes glued to Sicheng’s ass. Taeyong resists the urge to vomit. “Do you think he’d fuck me if I asked?” 

 

“You’re disgusting, and he’s so far out of your league it’s pathetic.” 

 

Yuta rubs his chest. “Wow, all this slow burn pinning shit has you bitter. Just cuz Youngho isn’t putting out doesn’t mean  _ I _ can’t get royal dick.” 

 

Taeyong rolls his eyes. For the millionth time in his life, he wonders why he even associates with Yuta Nakamoto. “You need to see a therapist. Sicheng is not interested in you.” 

 

Yuta grins, white teeth gleaming in the light. “I  _ do  _ have a therapist. Besides some anger management issues, she says I’m perfectly normal.’

 

“Yeah, that and the fact that your brain is actually  _ in _ your penis--” Someone behind them clears their throat and Taeyong winces, hoping whoever it was hadn’t heard the tail end of this conversation. He turns around, meeting the gaze of a man, much taller than him-- maybe taller than Youngho-- with pastel pink and lilac hair, and an amused smile playing at his lips. “Can I help you?”

 

The man clicks his heels and bows his head. “Chanyeol Park, of the new vampire court, at your service. I hope I’m not intruding?” He glances between Taeyong and Yuta. 

 

“Oh, no. Not at all.” Taeyong smiles sheepishly. 

 

“Good. I came to ask if you might join me for the next dance.”

 

Taeyong points at himself. “Me?” 

 

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “Yes, you. You are Taeyong Lee, aren’t you?” He smiles playfully. Taeyong flushes. 

 

“I-I don’t even know how to dance,” he tries. 

 

“I barely know how myself. Perhaps we can make fools of ourselves together?” Chanyeol holds his hand out, and Taeyong glances at Yuta for help. The lycan has busied himself with what were supposed to be Taeyong’s eclairs, and waves him off dismissively. 

 

“Uh, sure.” He slips his hand into Chanyeol’s and lets himself be led to the center of the dance floor. Chanyeol rests his other hand on Taeyong’s waist, and Taeyong puts his on Chanyeol’s shoulder.  _ God, _ he laments, looking up at the vampire.  _ Do all vampires have to be so stupidly tall? _

 

Chanyeol begins stepping to the beat, and Taeyong tries his best to follow his lead. “I apologize for coming up to you so suddenly.” 

 

“Huh?” Taeyong looks up from focusing on the movements of Chanyeol’s feet. “Oh, it’s okay. I would kill to not have to talk to Yuta the rest of the night.” 

 

Chanyeol grins. “Best friend?” 

 

Taeyong laughs and nods. “Best friend.” 

 

“I have heard a lot about you from his Majesty, and I wanted to meet you myself,” Chanyeol confesses, looking a little shy. Taeyong wonders why. “You’re far more beautiful than I imagined.” 

 

“Oh-- oh my god,” Taeyong laughs, ducking his head. “Thank you?” 

 

“Ah, you must hear that a lot.”

 

Taeyong giggles again, disbelieving. “No, not at all. You're exaggerating.” 

 

“Beautiful  _ and _ humble,” Chanyeol says, and Taeyong huffs, embarrassed and delighted all at once. 

 

“You're being silly,” Taeyong insists. 

 

“His Majesty has been hiding you away in his lair all this time, now I know why.” 

 

Taeyong takes a moment to focus on the steps-- despite what he’d said to Junmyeon, he really doesn't want to step on anyone’s feet, especially not those of a handsome, funny vampire. “Are you a friend of his?” 

 

Chanyeol scoffs. “Youngho Seo does  _ not _ have friends.” Taeyong rolls his eyes. “You could call us… frenemies.” 

 

Taeyong raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Frenemies? Should I not be talking to you then?” 

 

“It would break my heart if you left me now, right when I had you in my arms,” Chanyeol says, and Taeyong can’t help but laugh again at his antics. He leans in closer, eyes twinkling conspiratorially. “Besides, I think the only ones who will be in trouble tonight are the men who dare look at you.” 

 

Taeyong stumbles, and Chanyeol grips his waist to steady him. “What are you talking about?” 

 

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, smirking. “Oh please, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed his Royal Pain in the Ass glaring daggers at anyone who comes close to you all night?” Taeyong blinks at Chanyeol disbelievingly, and Chanyeol spins them so Taeyong can see Youngho out of the corner of his eye. Youngho is standing next to Junmyeon, glaring daggers at Chanyeol’s back. 

 

“Oh my god,” Taeyong mumbles, and Chanyeol laughs. 

 

“Look at him, he’s practically got  _ steam _ coming out of his ears. He’s really obvious, don’t you think?” 

 

Taeyong bites back a smile. A thrilled shiver creeps down his spine. “So I’ve been told…” 

 

Chanyeol leans in closer, and Taeyong’s eyes widen at the proximity. “What do you say we have a little fun?”

 

“You mean like… make him jealous?” 

 

Chanyeol grins. “If he’s going to have a stick up his ass all night, maybe we can give him a little…incentive.” 

 

Taeyong bites back a laugh. “I can neither agree nor refuse your offer,” he says with faux seriousness, and Chanyeol only smirks. “I can’t take responsibility for what might happen.” He’s seen the full force of Youngho’s anger, and while he doubts Youngho would do anything to Chanyeol, he doesn’t want to be responsible for what might happen. 

 

“Leave it to me, beautiful. I’ll get you your man.” And with that, Chanyeol spins them around, making Taeyong squeak in surprise. Chanyeol turns him around, then pulls him back to his chest, before leaning him down. Taeyong can’t stop laughing, trying to catch his breath and not trip over his own feet. 

 

They dance and dance until Taeyong can’t breathe, face red, cheeks aching. He doesn’t know how long it is before Chanyeol presses him close and leans down to whisper in his ear. “Abort mission, he looks like his head is going to explode.” 

 

“I c-can’t look,” Taeyong wheezes, pressing his forehead to Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol snickers. 

 

“It was nice knowing you, Taeyong. I’m glad my last moments of life were spent dancing with a lovely human such as yourself.” Taeyong clamps a hand over his mouth to cover up a snort. There’s a euphoria taking over him-- a combination of having so much fun with Chanyeol and knowing that he is affecting Youngho somehow. 

 

For the first time tonight, he feels in control. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but wait!!!! theres more!!!  
> as i was writing this chapter i realized it was getting too long for it to be reasonably paced. for reference, it was about 15k and they hadn't even done the diddly doo. so i made the decision to split things up. the second (last) part will be up hopefully in a couple days, and then the epilogue soon after that. thank u for sticking around.  
> if u wanna tell youngho to square up clap ur hands.  
> as always u can find me @taewinnies on tumblr  
> let me know ur thoughts!! i especially wanna know ur theories on how the rest of this is gonna play out!! ive already got it written so it wont influence the outcome but im very curious!! ^^ ill see u all very (very) soon


	5. red flavor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> youngho just wants to kiss taeyong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *plays exo's forever on the kazoo w my nostril*  
> i havent written smut in 2 YEARS

“Taeyong seems to be having a lovely time with Chanyeol,” Junmyeon notes, taking a sip of his champagne. Youngho claps his hands behind his back so that he doesn’t curl them into fists, and takes a deep breath through his nose. 

 

“Yes, lovely,” Youngho grits, watching as Chanyeol swings Taeyong around, who tilts his head back in laughter. Had Youngho ever made him laugh like that? 

 

“I wonder what Chanyeol is doing to woo him,” Junmyeon muses. 

 

Youngho glares at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

 

Junmyeon drains his glass. “He’s always been a charmer. He’s undoubtedly trying to sweep Taeyong off his feet, both metaphorically  _ and _ literally.” 

 

Youngho feels the veins in his forehead throbbing. “He wouldn’t  _ dare. _ ”

 

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow at him, face neutral. “Should he not? Is Taeyong, perhaps… spoken for?” 

 

Youngho turns his head quickly, going back to glaring at Chanyeol, trying to tamp down the burning jealousy in his throat. “I wouldn’t know.” 

 

“... Of course you wouldn’t.” Junmyeon laughs. “Chanyeol is a delightful conversationalist. Taeyong seems to think so also.” Youngho almost chokes on his own spit when he sees Chanyeol lean in to whisper something in Taeyong’s ear. And then Taeyong  _ laughs, _ as if to twist the knife further into Youngho’s gut. 

 

“They certainly seem friendly enough. Maybe by the end of the night--” 

 

Youngho doesn’t hear the rest of what Junmyeon is saying over the pounding in his ears, the roar of blood in his veins, as he stomps over towards the pair, trying to keep his expression neutral as he nods in respect to dignitaries as he passes. 

 

Once he’s in front of the pair, he clears his throat, and Chanyeol and Taeyong stop dancing to acknowledge Youngho. 

 

“I believe you’ve monopolized Taeyong’s time for long enough, Park.” 

 

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow, and Youngho wonders whether it would be proper decorum to snap his neck. “Well, I believe that’s for  _ Taeyong _ to decide, your Majesty.” 

 

Youngho tries not to look too desperate as he glances at Taeyong. “Did you need something, Youngho?” 

 

The vampire clears his throat, trying to seem nonchalant. “If I may have a word in private, Taeyong?” 

 

“Oh… okay?” Taeyong turns to Chanyeol. “Thank you for dancing with me, Chanyeol.” 

 

Chanyeol smirks, kissing Taeyong’s hand. “The pleasure was all mine.” Youngho sees a flash of red as he leans in to whisper something into Taeyong’s ear. He leans away then and has the audacity to  _ wink, _ before walking off. Taeyong tucks his lips between his teeth and covers his mouth, eyes swimming with mirth. 

 

“What did he say to you?” Youngho winces at how his voice sounds like a whine.

 

Taeyong giggles. “Oh nothing. Don’t worry about it, mom.” 

 

Irritation stirs in Youngho’s gut, and he stalks off, leaving Taeyong to scurry after him. 

 

“Youngho, where are we going?” he asks, trying to keep up with Youngho’s wide strides. He feels mildly petty, but he’s too annoyed to care. 

 

“Library,” he says tersely, continuing to walk until they reach the library. Youngho opens the door and motions for Taeyong to go in first. Youngho follows after him and closes the door, taking care to lock it behind him. If Taeyong notices that, he doesn’t say anything about it. 

 

“What is it, Youngho?” Taeyong’s eyes are wide and imploring, and all of Youngho’s prior irritation just evaporates. It hits him that he’s alone with Taeyong, who looks rather stunning like this, in the darkness of the room illuminated only by moonlight. 

 

“I--” The ire has melted away, leaving butterflies in its wake, and suddenly Youngho doesn’t know how to speak in coherent sentences. He has to think of an excuse quickly, or Taeyong will see right through him. 

 

“I… don’t feel that well. Would you mind if I…” 

 

“You want to… feed?” Taeyong asks incredulously. 

 

Youngho clears his throat. “Yes.”

 

“Right now.” Youngho wonders if he’s imagining the annoyance in Taeyong’s voice. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Taeyong takes a deep breath, as if to collect himself, and exhales slowly, before plastering a smile on his face. “Sure Youngho. You can feed. Right now.” 

 

Youngho swallows, and for the first time, he feels like he might be in some sort of danger. The thought disappears as soon as he thinks it, and he walks forward without preamble. Taeyong stumbles back, until his back hits a wall of books. Youngho presses into his space, bracing one hand on a shelf above Taeyong’s head. 

 

“Is this okay? Am I too close?” he asks softly, leaning down. Taeyong’s eyes seem to shake for a moment, but he stands up straighter, bringing their faces close together. 

 

“This is fine,” Taeyong says evenly. Youngho swallows thickly, gripping the bookcase tighter. In this proximity, Taeyong’s scent wraps around him, like a mind-numbing cloud. He can idly hear the beating of Taeyong’s heart and feel it against his own chest. “What are you waiting for?” 

 

_ Courage, _ Youngho thinks. He shakes his head and leans in, with Taeyong leaning his head to the side for better access. Youngho shouldn’t find it arousing, the way Taeyong bares his throat for him so easily, but he does. He leans in and presses his mouth against Taeyong’s Adam’s apple, relishing the way it bobs when Taeyong swallows. 

 

He presses in closer, running his nose along the slope of Taeyong’s neck, relishing the feeling of soft, smooth skin and that intoxicating scent. He can feel Taeyong’s pulse, throbbing erratically now against his lips. Youngho knows what he needs to do; he can feel it coiling inside him, aching in his bones. 

 

Youngho brings his lips to Taeyong’s ear and whispers, “I lied.” Taeyong’s body shivers against Youngho’s, and he pulls back to look at the human. 

 

Taeyong frowns, eyes a little glazed, cheeks flushed. “Wh-what?” He looks a little wrecked, and Youngho swallows down the pull of attraction at his chest. He takes a steadying breath. 

 

“I lied. I don’t need to feed.” 

 

Taeyong’s face is unreadable. “I figured as much.” He tugs at the lapels of Youngho’s coat. “Why did you bring me here, Youngho?” 

 

“I--” Youngho swallows thickly, heart pounding so violently against his chest that he fears it might burst out. “I just wanted to be alone with you.” 

 

Taeyong pushes himself up, straighter, until their noses are brushing, and meets his eyes evenly. Youngho feels bereft of breath, and he struggles to continue his train of thought. “Why did you want to be alone with me, Youngho? Tell me.” 

 

Youngho doesn’t remember a single moment where he’s been this nervous, this unfocused. “I need to make a confession,” he blurts out, cheeks stinging with heat. “I… I spent a lot of time thinking about this, the potential consequences, everything. You must understand how… difficult it is for me to come to terms with this, to share this with you. I am so… terrified of hurting you, of doing something wrong, and it--”

 

“Oh for  _ fucks _ sake, Youngho--” And then Taeyong is reaching up to cup his face and pulling him down into a kiss. Youngho groans, startled, and trips over his own feet, every thought he’d had in his head fizzling out into nothingness as Taeyong presses their lips together, mouth as plush and perfect as Youngho had imagined one too many times to count.

 

He makes a broken noise at the back of his throat, gripping Taeyong's waist to anchor himself. He presses closer and closer, licking at the seam of Taeyong's lips, and he parts them slightly, just enough for Youngho to feel like he's going to lose his mind. The only thing going through his mind is  _Taeyong Taeyong Taeyong,_ his warmth, the taste of his lips, the way his body feels, pressed against Youngho's.  _Perfect perfect perfect._

 

When they break apart, Taeyong is breathless, and Youngho’s entire world has tilted on its axis. “I-- what?” Youngho’s entire vocabulary has been reduced down to just a few words. He can’t focus, not when his entire body is warm and thrumming. Taeyong gives him a lopsided smile, thumbs brushing against Youngho’s cheekbones. He reaches up to grip Taeyong’s wrists, hoping desperately that this isn’t just another ridiculous dream. 

 

“I l-like you too, Youngho,” Taeyong pants. 

 

Youngho swallows thickly. “I… I wasn’t going to say that, though?” 

 

Several emotions flicker in Taeyong’s eyes, and his face drains of all color. “Oh my god, did I just severely misread the situation? Because it sounded like--”

 

“Taeyong…” Youngho murmurs, gripping his wrists tighter. The human looks up at him, clearly embarrassed, and Youngho has to let out a laugh.  _ What a ridiculous situation. _ “I love you. I’m madly in love with you.  _ That _ is what I was going to say.” 

 

“Oh,” Taeyong manages to say, hands trembling in Youngho’s grip. He looks so flustered that Youngho has to lean in and kiss him, inhaling deeply because for the first time, he feels like he can  _ breathe. _ Taeyong makes a noise at the back of his throat, pushing Youngho’s face away. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Youngho asks, searching Taeyong’s face for any sign of distress or discomfort. 

 

Taeyong shakes his head. “N-nothing, just… uhm. Can I retract what I said earlier? I only said I liked you because I didn’t know which one you were gonna say so I just went with the most casual one, I didn’t want to pressure you or seem too intense--” 

 

Taeyong’s voice is muffled by Youngho’s mouth covering his own, and he arches into Youngho, hands coming free to wind around his neck. Youngho presses him against the shelves, arms winding around Taeyong’s waist and drawing him closer.  _ Finally, finally, finally.  _ He licks at the seam of Taeyong’s mouth, and he opens up beautifully for Youngho. 

 

Taeyong pulls away, chest heaving, eyes sparkling, and Youngho thinks that right now, he could die happy. “Youngho, I love you.” An inexplicable happiness blooms in Youngho’s heart, and it feels like the missing piece in his existence has been found. 

 

Youngho grins, elated. “That’s a relief.” 

 

Taeyong slaps his chest. “Idiot. We could have done this a lot sooner.” 

 

At that, Youngho sobers up. “I’m sorry for making you wait. I was thinking too much.” 

 

“I know. It’s okay.” Taeyong runs his fingers through Youngho’s hair soothingly. A wry smile tugs at his lips. “I hate you and you’re an idiot, but I love you.” 

 

Taeyong reaches up at the same time Youngho leans down, and then they’re kissing again. Youngho feels the satisfaction simmering in his blood, and yet, he yearns for even more. He wants to devour Taeyong, take everything and give all of himself in return. 

 

His hands wander down to Taeyong’s ass, and he squeezes hard, pushing their hips together. Taeyong gasps into his mouth, and Youngho smiles, pleased. He kisses along Taeyong’s jaw and down his neck, dropping wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Taeyong tugs helplessly at Youngho’s hair. It makes the desire swirl in his abdomen, uncontrolled and almost violent. 

 

“Say it again,” Youngho murmurs against Taeyong’s throat, keeping him pinned between the bookcase and his own body no matter how much he squirms. 

 

“I h-hate you,” Taeyong mutters, and Youngho presses his thigh between Taeyong’s legs. He moans, startled, and his hips kick, chasing the sweet friction. 

 

“The part after it,” Youngho grits. 

 

“Y-you’re an idiot,” Taeyong pants, and Youngho pulls back to lock their gazes, foreheads pressed together. 

 

“Don’t make me beg, Taeyong,” he warns, trying to sound threatening, but he just feels desperate. He wants Taeyong in every way, his body, his heart, and his mind. He  _ needs _ to hear the words again, over and over again, to believe that they might be real. 

 

Taeyong blinks at him, smiling cutely. It feels totally inappropriate, considering he looks like sin, completely ruined by Youngho’s mouth. “But I kinda like it when you beg.”

 

Youngho huffs. “You’re a brat, have I ever told you that?” 

 

Taeyong tilts his head back and forth. “Only a couple million times.” His smile dies away, and he widens his eyes, sparkly and doe-like, and  _ oh, _ Youngho is a weak fool. “You say it first.” 

 

And then it hits Youngho that maybe, Taeyong is afraid too. For all his false bravado, he’s just as scared. He has just as much to lose. 

 

“I love you, Taeyong. Very much.” And the way Taeyong’s face brightens, the way his lips part into a jubilant smile, makes Youngho feel like three thousand years was completely worth it. 

 

“And I love you.” Taeyong presses an indulgent kiss to Youngho’s waiting mouth. “I love you--” Another kiss. “I love you--” Another. “I--” His voice breaks into a broken moan when Youngho grips him close, kissing him with an almost violent passion. 

 

“This is the best day of my life,” Youngho mumbles against Taeyong’s mouth. Taeyong huffs out a laugh and lets his hand stroke down Youngho’s chest and abdomen, until his thumb presses against the skin just below his navel, above his belt. 

 

“It could get… better.” 

 

Youngho laughs in surprise, trying to mask his arousal, and he grips Taeyong tighter. “You are just full of surprises.” He brushes their lips together, teasing, tempting. “Tell me what you want, darling. I'll give you anything.” 

 

“I--”

 

They're interrupted by three sharp knocks on the door. They both turn their heads towards the door, startled. “Your Majesty, my  _ deepest _ apologies--”

 

Youngho closes his eyes, trying to compose himself. He clears his throat. “What is it, Doyoung?” 

 

“The speech, your Majesty. It’s time. Everyone is waiting for you.” 

 

Youngho groans, pressing his forehead against Taeyong’s. “Can't you make an excuse?”

 

“I've already pushed it back too far, your Majesty. People are starting to get impatient.” A beat of silence. “I can buy you five more minutes, your Majesty. No more.” 

 

“Thank you, Doyoung.” 

 

“Your Majesty.” Youngho waits until Doyoung’s footsteps fade, before both he and Taeyong burst out giggling. 

 

“What are we doing, Youngho?” Taeyong asks breathlessly, pushing Youngho away to straighten up. Taeyong runs a frantic hand through Youngho’s now-unkempt hair, and straightens his dress shirt, clearly trying to make it seem like he hadn’t just kissed Youngho within an inch of his life. He then tries to do the same to himself. “How do I look?” 

 

Youngho takes a moment to assess Taeyong’s debauched state. His hair is tousled and his lips are swollen and wet. “You look like you've been thoroughly kissed,” he says honestly, pulling Taeyong in to kiss him again. “And yet, I feel like I haven't kissed you enough.” Taeyong laughs against his mouth and pushes him away. 

 

“Stop it, you have to go.” 

 

“How am I supposed to leave when you look like  _ that?”  _ Youngho rakes his eyes down Taeyong’s lithe, tempting figure, and smirks when Taeyong shivers. He steals another kiss, before being manhandled towards the door. 

 

“Youngho,  _ behave _ yourself,” Taeyong warns, though he seems to be having just as hard a time keeping his hands to himself. 

 

“Do I get a reward for good behavior?” 

 

Youngho expects Taeyong to blush and duck his head, maybe slap his chest in annoyance. He is wholly unprepared for Taeyong to lean up to his ear and whisper, “At the end of the night, when everyone is gone, you can come up to my room. And I'll let you do anything you want to me.” 

 

The words go straight to Youngho’s core, and he wonder whether he could just screw the Winter Solstice and whisk Taeyong away. How is he supposed to make a speech and spend the rest of the night pretending that he doesn’t want to ruin Taeyong? As if reading his mind, Taeyong smiles innocently and steps away. “If you try anything before then, you get nothing.” 

 

Youngho narrows his eyes. “You are an incubus. A very dangerous one.” Taeyong shrugs, unaffected. “You are going to regret those words, darling.” 

 

Taeyong grins, wicked and tempting and beautiful. “Somehow, I doubt it.” 

 

\--

 

Taeyong closes the door behind Youngho and leans against it, taking deep breaths. He tries to school his expression, but can’t tamp down the giggles that bubble out of his mouth. He puts the back of his hand against his overheated skin, and his mouth  _ hurts _ from how wide it stretches into a smile. 

 

_ Did that really just happen?  _ He wonders, staring at the bookcase he’d been pressed against just moments before. His back aches in the places where the shelves dug in, but at the time he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when Youngho was all over him, hot and desperate. 

 

Taeyong’s eyes widen when he realizes how uncharacteristically bold he’d been before he shoved Youngho out. Anxiety twists in his stomach, but it is an anticipatory feeling, not a fearful one. No, Taeyong could never be afraid. Youngho makes him brave. 

 

He straightens up and takes a few deep breaths, running his hands through his hair and checking his clothes again. They hadn’t had time to leave any marks, and in this situation, Taeyong is glad, because  _ those _ would be hard to explain. 

 

Once he’s collected himself, Taeyong pushes back his shoulders and opens the library door, walking back towards the main hall. As he walks closer, he realizes that the orchestra has stopped playing and everything is silent, except for a voice-- Youngho’s. 

 

He slips into the hall unnoticed, as everyone’s attention is on Youngho, standing on a raised platform at the opposite end of the room, at the tail end of his speech. Taeyong notices Junmyeon, and the vampire grins at him when Taeyong steps up next to him. 

 

“And now, we move forward into a new era of peace,” Youngho finishes, and Taeyong frowns in disappointment. Maybe Youngho will show him the speech later. He raises his glass, and the hall breaks out into applause. Taeyong joins them, and watches Youngho bow his head, before stepping down. Almost immediately, the orchestra begins to play again, and Junmyeon turns to Taeyong. 

 

“I believe you owe me a dance, my dear.” Junmyeon proffers his hand, and Taeyong takes it, laughing, as the vampire pulls him towards the dance floor. 

 

“I really can’t dance,” he says. 

 

“Oh, but you were doing fine with Chanyeol.” The mention of the pink-haired vampire makes Taeyong smile. “You two certainly seemed to be enjoying yourselves.” They take their positions and begin moving to the music. 

 

“We were,” Taeyong says coyly. 

 

“It’s a shame his Majesty had to whisk you away like that, so suddenly.” 

 

Taeyong laughs nervously. “He needed to speak with me.”

 

“Yes, it seemed… urgent.” Junmyeon smirks, and Taeyong hopes that the brightness of his blush isn’t incriminating. “You missed a very nice speech.”

 

“I just needed to get some air.” 

 

Junmyeon nods, and his face is neutral, but his eyes are swimming with mirth.  _ He knows. _ “I hope his Majesty got to say what he wanted.” 

 

Taeyong coughs, ducking his head. “He did.” 

 

“Then I am glad,” Junmyeon says, spinning them around to the tempo. “How are you enjoying your night so far, Taeyong?” 

 

“It’s been a bit… overwhelming,” Taeyong says honestly. “But… everyone has been so kind? I was hesitant… but now I... I feel very welcomed.” 

 

Junmyeon frowns thoughtfully. “I will not lie to you and say it will always be like that. Our kind is not without judgement.” 

 

“I understand.” 

 

“But--” Junmyeon smiles kindly. “You have a friend in me. And a few others now, it seems.” Taeyong laughs, thinking of Chanyeol and Sicheng and President Kang. “You have nothing to be afraid of.” Junmyeon seems to spot something over Taeyong’s shoulder, and he smirks. “Except for, perhaps, the long line of people hoping to get a dance with you.” 

 

“Huh?” Taeyong’s eyes widen, and Junmyeon spins them around until he can see Yunho Jung, the leader of Yuta’s pack, walking towards them. “Oh my god. I  _ can’t  _ dance.” 

 

Junmyeon smiles unhelpfully. “But you’ve not stepped on my feet once all night. Have some faith in yourself, Taeyong.” The music ends, and Junmyeon steps back, bowing his head. 

 

“But--” Junmyeon just winks and walks away, leaving Taeyong to turn and smile at Yunho. He’d met the Alpha several times in college when he visited Yuta’s childhood home on pack grounds. Yunho has more grey hair than the last time Taeyong saw him, but his smile is just as charming. 

 

“Taeyong, it’s been a while. You look lovely.” He holds out his hand, and Taeyong grins, taking it.  _ This is going to be a very long night. _

 

\--

 

Youngho watches keenly as Taeyong moves from partner to partner, gliding across the dance floor with that same beautiful smile on his face. 

 

“He’s a natural,” Doyoung says, stepping up next to Youngho. 

 

“That he is,” Youngho says, taking a sip of his champagne. 

 

“The entire vampire court is completely enamoured by him.” Youngho smiles, relieved. He had a feeling that would happen, that everyone would fall in love with Taeyong the way he himself had. Doyoung leans in, face scandalized. “Princess Yerim asked me if I knew his _ Instagram. _ ” 

 

Youngho laughs. He rather likes Yerim, the mischievous pixie princess. “He’s lovely. I'm glad others are not blind to it.” 

 

“There are a lot of things our guests are not blind to,” Doyoung mumbles. Youngho doesn’t catch it, gaze fixated on Taeyong. “There is only an hour left before the Winter Solstice is over, your Majesty. Then you can go to him.” Youngho raises an eyebrow, and Doyoung matches his gaze evenly. “I’ll take care of everything else.” 

 

“Thank you, Doyoung,” Youngho says sincerely, and decides Doyoung definitely deserves a raise. 

 

\--

 

Taeyong’s face is aching from laughing too much when the clock strikes twelve. Chanyeol had pulled him away from the dance floor for a much needed break to introduce the rest of Youngho’s newly appointed vampire court. 

 

Having been around Youngho for so long, he didn’t think vampires could have a good sense of humor, but he’d been proven wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yuta draping himself over Sicheng’s shoulders, and the Seelie prince is having none of it. He bites back the snort. 

 

Twelve rings of a bell sound from somewhere Taeyong cannot place. Before he can even blink, Youngho is at his side. His new vampire friends immediately bow their heads in respect, though Chanyeol turns his head just enough to wink at Taeyong. 

 

“I will be retiring for the evening. Thank you for being here tonight,” Youngho says, voice stiff and formal.  _ No wonder he doesn’t have friends, _ Taeyong thinks idly. 

 

“Our pleasure, your Majesty,” Baekhyun says. “Thank you for allowing us the pleasure of meeting Taeyong today.” 

 

Youngho clears his throat. “Yes, of course.” He then turns to Taeyong. “It is getting late. I hope you won’t spend too long saying goodbye to your new friends?” There’s a thinly veiled double meaning behind his words, and Taeyong’s heart rate kicks up a few notches when he understands what Youngho means. 

 

Taeyong just hums, not quite trusting his voice. “Then I will take my leave. Goodnight, everyone.” 

 

“Goodnight, your Majesty,” everyone says in unison, keeping their heads bowed until Youngho walks away. Chanyeol is the first to raise his head, and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Taeyong shoves him lightly. 

 

“He’s right, I should probably start saying goodbye to everyone,” Taeyong says. 

 

“I hope you’ll come to court one day. It’s been delightful talking with you, Taeyong.” 

 

Taeyong grins at Chen. “Likewise.” Everyone in the group bows their heads, and Taeyong nods back stiffly, still startled by everyone’s formality. “Goodnight, everyone.” 

 

He makes his rounds, thanking everyone he spoke to tonight. Eventually, he makes his way to Yuta. “Did Sicheng file a restraining order yet?” 

 

Yuta smirks. “Actually, he asked me for my number.” 

 

Taeyong scoffs. “He’s probably just gonna use it to block you.” 

 

“I love a man who knows what he wants. I found him on Twitter.” 

 

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “You’re a dumbass.” 

 

“And  _ you _ are quite the socialite,” Yuta drawls, slinging his arm around Taeyong’s shoulders. “Didn’t think you had it in you, TY.” 

 

“I wasn’t too awkward, was I?” Taeyong rubs the back of his neck nervously. He’d tried his best tonight, and found things came naturally the longer he had to interact with others. 

 

“Awkward? You charmed the pants off everyone. If you weren’t banging Youngho Seo I’m sure you could have gotten yourself a sugar daddy or two.” 

 

“I’m  _ not _ banging Youngho,” Taeyong hisses.  _ Yet. _

 

Yuta raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Then why did you disappear to with Youngho? To have a friendly chat between pals?” 

 

Taeyong curses himself for blushing so easily, and for Yuta, who has known Taeyong for years, it’s just as good as a confession. “He… confessed.”

 

Yuta squawks, eyes widening with happiness. “Holy shit I have to tell Ten. He’ll fucking  _ lose _ his shit.” 

 

“Wait, you won’t say it’s Youngho, right?” 

 

“Not unless you want me to,” Yuta says. Taeyong shakes his head. 

 

“I need to talk to Youngho first. I don’t know how… public we want to be.”

 

Yuta nods and shrugs. “It’s fine, I’ll just say it’s your sugar daddy.” 

 

“Fuck you, Nakamoto.” 

 

“Gross. Ask Youngho.” With that, Taeyong waves Yuta off. He takes a cursory glance around the main hall, which is mostly empty now. There’s no one else he feels compelled to talk to, which means the night is over-- mostly. 

 

A thrum of anticipation vibrates through his bones as he climbs the stairs. Each step makes the butterflies multiply, and it feels like ages before he’s at his door. Taeyong takes a deep breath before opening his door. His room is mostly dark, and for a moment, disappointment stabs at him-- he had hoped Youngho would be there, waiting for him. 

 

“Took you long enough.” 

 

“ _ Jesus Christ, _ ” Taeyong wheezes, jerking when he notices Youngho in the corner at his desk. A single lamp illuminates his figure, long and lean and elegant as he sits in Taeyong’s chair like it’s a throne. “You scared me.” He puts a hand over his chest, trying to calm his frantic heart. 

 

Youngho closes the book he’d clearly been perusing and stands. Taeyong gulps as Youngho strides over. The vampire had abandoned the black velvet coat, leaving him in the loose satin dress shirt, the first few buttons undone, giving Taeyong a glimpse of tantalizing, honey-toned skin. 

 

He thinks back to the comment he made about looking like a pirate-- Youngho looks roguish and tempting and more than a little dangerous. Taeyong keeps his shoulders straight as Youngho stands in front of him, eyes gleaming in the dark. 

 

“I apologize,” he murmurs, eyes drifting to Taeyong’s mouth, pushed into a pout. 

 

“It’s okay,” Taeyong says. From this proximity, Youngho’s familiar, heady scent surrounds Taeyong, drowning him. His heart is beating too fast to be good for his health. 

 

“May I kiss you?” Youngho asks, words airy and light, and yet heavy with promise. 

 

Taeyong’s tongue darts out, and he wets his lips nervously. Youngho’s eyes follow the motion with rapture. “O-Of course.” Youngho leans in, hands coming up to cup Taeyong’s face delicately. He presses their lips together chastely, and when they part, Taeyong leans forward a little to chase after. Youngho smirks. 

 

“How was your night, darling?” Youngho asks, stepping back. Taeyong blinks, trying to clear his head. 

 

“Uh…” Taeyong puts some more space between them, and walks over to the large vanity across from his bed. If he keeps looking at Youngho, he’s going to overwhelm himself. “It was actually… really nice, Youngho. I’m glad to have been there.” 

 

He slips off his coat, and immediately, his body feels cold. The thin silky material of his shirt does nothing to fend off the chilly winter air, and he shivers. Taeyong drapes the coat carefully over the back of a chair, and tries not to jerk when Youngho comes up behind him, his hands sliding over Taeyong’s hips and pressing their bodies together. 

 

Taeyong’s body wracks with shivers, because Youngho is so incredibly warm and solid. He melts into Youngho’s chest, and the vampire hums in satisfaction. “It seems like you made quite a few friends.” Youngho kisses lightly against the skin of Taeyong’s neck, following a path down to the sliver of shoulder that is exposed by the shirt. 

 

Taeyong exhales shakily, leaning his head back against Youngho’s shoulder to give him more access. He watches Youngho’s ministrations in the mirror, and can’t help the throbbing in his abdomen. “President Kang gave me her personal phone number.” 

 

That makes Youngho pause, and he meets Taeyong’s eyes in the reflection. “Did she now?” 

 

Taeyong nods. “She says I can call her any time. She wants me to help with her vampire relations campaign.” 

 

Youngho pulls away gently, and turns Taeyong to face him. “You don’t have to contact her if you don’t want to. You have no obligation to get involved in those things, and she won’t hold it against you either.” 

 

“I know,” Taeyong says, sighing. He flops down into the chair and bends over to start unlacing his boots. “But… what if I want to? Would that be bad? I know I said I didn’t want to get involved with politics.” Youngho kneels down in front of him and clicks his tongue, prying Taeyong’s fingers away to do it himself. He feels a heady rush of affection, watching Youngho frown as he struggles to undo a knot. 

 

“You’re allowed to change your mind, love.” Youngho tugs off the first boot and shoots Taeyong a smile before moving to the foot. Taeyong reaches behind his neck to unclasp the necklace, setting it down carefully on the dresser. “If you choose to do something, it doesn’t have to be high-profile. You of all people should know you don’t need your face plastered everywhere to make a difference.” 

 

Taeyong smiles wryly, wiggling his toes when the other shoe finally comes off. “I just… I feel like tonight gave me courage. Is that weird? I didn’t think I even had a place in this kind of dialogue.” 

 

“If you choose to, you will  _ always _ have a place at the table for this.” 

 

Taeyong curls in on himself slightly. “Is that… okay? I’m just me-- I mean, I’m sure there are more qualified people out there who have better things to say.” 

 

Youngho laughs brightly. “People spent all night falling over themselves trying to get a chance to talk to you, and you still think you are ordinary.” 

 

“They only did that because I came with you.” Taeyong had definitely found it odd how he was never alone tonight-- there was always someone who wanted to talk to him about something. 

 

“Maybe initially,” Youngho admits, straightening up. He holds out his hands, and Taeyong takes them, letting himself be pulled up and towards the bed. “But you have your own effect on people. Because you are intelligent and strong and kind.”

 

Taeyong doesn’t know what to say to those kind words. He’d been showered with compliments all night, and he’d taken them graciously, but none of them really mattered unless they came from Youngho. They sit down at the edge of the bed. 

 

“You’re a natural. And if this is an avenue you want to explore in the future, you have my full support.” 

 

Taeyong sighs, leaning his head onto Youngho’s shoulder. “Thanks, Youngho. I’ll definitely think about it.” 

 

Youngho hums and tilts his head to kiss Taeyong’s hair. They stay like that for a minute, quiet, enjoying each other’s presence. The lull is broken by Taeyong’s large yawn. Youngho laughs. “Are you tired, my love?” 

 

Taeyong pulls away to smile at him sheepishly. “Would you be disappointed if I was?” 

 

“Not in the least. However,” Youngho frowns with mock seriousness, “I hope you’ll let me hold you while you sleep.” Taeyong grins. “You’re very beautiful when you’re quiet and not trying to drag me.” 

 

Taeyong cackles at that, flopping down onto the plush comforter. There’s a dull ache in his body from moving around so much tonight, and he sinks into the plush duvet. He could fall asleep at this exact moment, except for now, Youngho is looming over him, smiling devilishly. Adrenaline makes his heart rate skip, and it feels like he can’t breathe when Youngho leans down and kisses him. 

 

Taeyong lets his eyes drift closed and winds his arms around Youngho’s neck, urging the vampire to press his body down against Taeyong. Youngho braces himself on his forearms, and Taeyong arches himself up, relishing the warmth of Youngho’s body and how solid it feels, caging him. 

 

Youngho sinks down further onto him, still careful, and lets his hands slide down to Taeyong’s waist as he works his mouth over Taeyong’s jaw and down his throat. And then-- “ _ You said you’d let me do whatever I wanted, _ ” Youngho whines, fingers tickling Taeyong’s sides. Taeyong squawks out a laugh, trying desperately to wriggle his way out of Youngho’s merciless hands. 

 

“Y-Youngho-- s-stop--” he wheezes, stomach aching from the giggles, but Youngho is unrelenting, only stopping when Taeyong is in tears, struggling to breathe. He pulls back, grinning like an idiot. “I hate you, how did you know I was ticklish?” 

 

Youngho shrugs, looking too satisfied with himself. “I didn’t. It was just an educated guess.” He raises an eyebrow. “Are you really tired? Perhaps I can provide… incentive to stay awake?” Taeyong laughs ridiculously when Youngho wiggles his eyebrows, beginning to slowly unbutton his shirt. 

 

“Youngho are you seriously trying to strip? You’re embarrassing and that’s never gonna--” Taeyong stops when Youngho slides the fabric off his shoulders, and blinks owlishly at his body. He always figured, at the back of his mind, that Youngho would be physically fit-- how else could he go on those top secret missions or whatever it is he does? 

 

But he couldn’t anticipate the broad shoulders and defined pectorals, tapering down to narrow hips and vacuum-packed abdominal muscles. And his arms-- Taeyong has always had a  _ thing _ for arms, but Youngho’s are the nicest he’s ever seen. They flex beautifully as Youngho tugs the shirt off and tosses it somewhere onto the floor. Taeyong wonders idly if Youngho could pin him against a wall and fuck him one day. 

 

“Okay, I’m awake, I am  _ definitely _ awake,” Taeyong says, mouth dry, heart hammering, as he pushes himself up to sit. “Holy shit, are those real?” 

 

Youngho frowns, clearly not knowing what to do with Taeyong’s reaction. “Why wouldn’t they be real?” 

 

“How…” 

 

“I exercise, Taeyong. You should try it some time.” 

  
Taeyong screws up his face. “No thanks. I’d rather just look at you,” he murmurs. “Can I touch?” He blinks innocently. “For scientific purposes, of course.” 

 

Youngho purses his lips, poorly hiding his amusement. “Of course.” Taeyong reaches forward and presses his hand against Youngho’s stomach, warm and solid and  _ definitely _ real. “Holy  _ shit, _ ” he whispers. Leave it to Youngho to have the most mouth-watering dream of a body Taeyong has ever seen, on top of being funny and cute and having nice hair.  _ Life is not fair. _

 

Youngho grips Taeyong’s wrist and brings it up, kissing the knuckles. “And now it’s time for bed,” he says. Taeyong’s mouth drops open. 

 

“B-but you said--” 

 

Youngho grins, canines glinting in the moonlight. He looks too pleased and Taeyong wants to wipe that despicable smirk off his face. “I know what I said.” He leans in, brushing their noses. “I was teasing you.” 

 

“Jerk!” Taeyong screeches, attempting to shove Youngho off the bed, but the vampire catches himself gracefully--  _ of course he does-- _ and stands up, laughing. 

 

“You should really get ready for bed, darling.” Youngho leans down to pick up his shirt, and Taeyong is torn between admiring his back muscles and kicking his ass. “And when I come back, be prepared for Youngho Seo’s world famous cuddles.” 

 

“Get out of my house!” Taeyong yells as Youngho walks out of his bedroom. 

 

“It’s my house!” he yells back, laughter echoing across the hallway between them. Taeyong whines, thrashing around on the bed, knowing full well Youngho can still hear him. He huffs, but it’s hard to be annoyed at the moment, when he feels like tonight, he’d gotten everything he could have hoped for and more.  _ Well, almost everything. _

 

It’s not until he’s finished showering and brushing his teeth that an idea hits him. Taeyong thinks both Ten and Yuta would be very pleased with him if they knew what he was thinking, and he smirks. He then catches his reflection in the mirror, and stops, realizing how creepy he looks. 

 

Taeyong rushes through the rest of his nighttime routine, giddy and rather satisfied with himself. He situates himself cross legged in the middle of the bed and waits for Youngho. 

 

The vampire knocks on Taeyong’s door before entering, a minute later, and Taeyong is a bit dumbfounded. Yet again, Taeyong is taken by surprise-- he’s not sure what vampires were supposed to wear to bed. Maybe he expected Youngho to show up in a matching silk pajama set, like the ones Taeyong has seen in movies that old people wear. 

 

Instead, Youngho walks in wearing a loose cotton v-neck shirt and tapered black lounge pants. He looks tall and lean and handsome and…  _ young. _ He’s usually dressed formally, elegantly. But Taeyong thinks that Youngho could easily blend in at his school if he wanted, and that Youngho is exactly the type of guy he’d thirst after if Taeyong met him in another circumstance. 

 

That is not to say Taeyong isn’t thirsting after Youngho  _ now. _ He can’t remember being this painfully attracted to someone in his life. His eyes rake up and down Youngho’s body, and his body thrums in anticipation. “Take off your shirt,” he blurts out, but now that it’s out there, he can’t take it back. Not that he wants to. The demand seems to startle Youngho for only a moment. 

 

“Am I getting paid for this?” he asks, poorly hiding a smirk as he tugs the shirt over his head, and even  _ that _ is mind-numbingly sexy. He tosses it off to the side and walks to the edge of the bed, hands tucked into his pockets. Taeyong bites his lip, admiring Youngho’s body, and decides he’ll never get tired of it. 

 

“Depends on what you want,” Taeyong manages to say, reaching out his hand, and Youngho takes it, letting himself be pulled into the bed and manhandled onto his back, head resting on the pillows. Taeyong straddles him, and one of Youngho’s hands come to hold his hip, while the other is tucked under his head. 

 

“I can think of a few things,” Youngho says idly. Taeyong swallows thickly, watching his muscles flex. “I thought we were going to bed, though?” 

 

“We will, just…” Taeyong presses his hands flat against Youngho’s chest. “Give me a sec.” He lets his hands wander down, thumbs tracing the deep ridges of his abs. “Has anyone told you how hot you are? Cuz you’re like… really really hot. Seriously the sexiest man I’ve ever met.” 

 

Youngho laughs, blushing. “I’ve never been so happy to be physically objectified,” he says, taking a sharp breath when Taeyong’s fingers trace along his v-line and the trail of dark hair that disappears beyond the hem of his pants. “What exactly are you trying to do here?” 

 

“I told you,” Taeyong murmurs, distracted. “I’m admiring you.” Then, he presses his palm into Youngho’s crotch. His hips kick, and he tries to mask the startled groan as a cough. There’s something extremely pleasing to him about having Youngho under him, letting Taeyong do whatever he pleases. 

 

Taeyong strokes his hand against the outline of Youngho’s cock, becoming more pronounced through the thin fabric of the pants. In a moment of boldness, he situates himself so his ass is pressed right against Youngho’s arousal, and he grinds down. He gasps in pleasure at the same time Youngho hisses out a string of expletives. 

 

“ _ Taeyong--” _ Youngho is cut off by Taeyong leaning over to kiss him, open-mouthed and desperate. It’s the filthiest kiss they’ve shared, too much tongue and teeth as Taeyong continues to roll his hips down. Both Youngho’s hands come down to Taeyong’s ass, squeezing indulgently and helping Taeyong press down harder, faster. 

 

“Y-Youngho,” Taeyong mumbles into the vampire’s mouth. “When’s the last time you got a blow job?” Youngho presses his head back into the pillows so he can look at Taeyong, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and pleasure. 

 

“A blow job?” It takes him a moment to process what Taeyong is asking. “I--  _ Oh. _ I… can’t remember.” Taeyong grins at him and grinds down harder, one last time, before scooting down Youngho’s body, leaving wet kisses on his chest and stomach, and toying with the hem of his pants. 

 

If there’s one thing Taeyong is certain of, it’s his ability to give head. The latter half of high school and early college days had been a messy blur of hook ups, a desperate attempt to feel validated and important to someone, if even just for a few minutes. Though it’s been a while since the last time he did this, he figures it’s a bit like riding a bike-- you never quite forget. 

 

And yet, there is something startlingly different about this. Taeyong watches the way Youngho worries his bottom lip between his teeth, and he suddenly feels like he’s going to choke from the rush of affection, mixing with the already overwhelming lust. Youngho meets his gaze, already undone, and it makes Taeyong smile. He wants to do this for Youngho, not because he hopes it will fill some void inside him, but because he loves Youngho with every ounce of his being. 

 

“Taeyong, stop teasing me,” Youngho groans, pressing his head back against the pillows. Taeyong blinks rapidly, focusing back on Youngho’s straining arousal and decides to have mercy, tugging down on the hem of his pants until his cock springs free. Taeyong takes a sharp breath, trying not to be surprised, because Youngho’s cock is as beautiful as the rest of him, and  _ yes, _ Taeyong will definitely enjoy having that in his mouth. 

 

Youngho is long and thick, pink and curving up to his stomach. Taeyong feels elated, and he can’t help but laugh at himself for salivating at the sight of it. Youngho raises his head. “Why are you laughing?” 

 

Taeyong tries to tamp down the giggles. “Your dick is very… proportional,” he decides to say, and Youngho flops his head back down. 

 

“I’m not even going to ask.” 

 

Youngho’s cock feels good in Taeyong’s hand, hard and hot and pulsating. He strokes it a few times, bringing to full hardness, and relishes the noises that Youngho makes. Without further delay, he bends down and licks the head experimentally. He gets a pearl of precum for his efforts, and feeling particularly bold and empowered, he smears it across his lips. 

 

“Jesus  _ Christ-- _ ” Youngho chokes out, watching Taeyong’s ministrations with heavy, dark eyes. 

 

Taeyong hums in satisfaction, swiping his tongue across his lips, then puts his mouth on Youngho’s cock again, suckling the head. Youngho’s hands find their way to Taeyong’s hair, and he tugs helplessly at the roots. Encouraged, Taeyong lowers his head, trying to relax his jaw so he can take all of Youngho’s girth. 

 

He gets a few inches before he’s reminded of his gag reflex, so he grips what he can’t fit in his mouth with his hand and strokes with the same rhythm he bobs his head. He’s rewarded with a litany of curses from Youngho, and he works faster, twisting his wrist with the motion and pressing his tongue against the veins on the underside. 

 

It doesn’t take too long for Youngho’s hips to start coming off the bed, and Taeyong relaxes his throat, letting him fuck into his mouth. And then, when Youngho seems painfully close to release, Taeyong takes his mouth off of Youngho’s cock with a messy slurp. He tugs Youngho’s pants back up, pats Youngho’s stomach, and flops down onto the bed next to him. 

 

“We should probably go to sleep now, right?” Taeyong asks, trying not to wince at how raw his throat feels. It takes Youngho a few seconds to realize what just happened, and he turns to Taeyong, mouth open in disbelief.    
  


“You--” Youngho groans and rolls over, pressing Taeyong down with his weight, and crushes their mouths together. Taeyong moans, startled and pleased with Youngho’s sudden assertiveness, and winds his arms around Youngho’s neck, hands roaming the warm, wide expanse of his back. 

 

Youngho pulls away to stare down at Taeyong, eyes smouldering. “You are playing a very dangerous game, my love.” Taeyong snorts, because the idea of Youngho being dangerous is any way is ridiculous to him. “You laugh but you’ve not seen what I’m fully capable of.” 

 

“Then show me,” Taeyong hums, letting his fingertips rub at the nape of Youngho’s neck. Youngho narrows his eyes, considering, and Taeyong gulps when his amber eyes glint. “What?” 

 

“I’m deciding how I’m going to punish you,” Youngho murmurs. 

 

Taeyong’s heart splutters, throat constricting. His body tenses, and Youngho catches it right away. He raises a single, well-groomed eyebrow. “Is that what you want?” Taeyong bites his lip, not wanting to say something incriminating. He’s embarrassed by how quickly he’d been put in his place, but he isn’t complaining. He just doesn’t want Youngho to know he’s already given in. 

 

Youngho seems to realize this as well, and decides to take things into his own hands. He straightens up, situating himself between Taeyong’s legs. “First of all, this shirt has to go.” And before Taeyong can even think to take it off, Youngho is ripping it down the middle. 

 

“ _ Youngho!” _ Taeyong splutters, both extremely annoyed and incredibly turned on. It’s not every day Youngho displays any of his superhuman strength, and Taeyong can’t think of a better situation to utilize it than to rip his clothes off. 

 

“I’ll buy you another one, darling,” Youngho says dismissively. He has the decency to tug off Taeyong’s boxers instead of tearing them, and he tosses the clothes over his shoulder. Youngho looms over Taeyong, taking in the sight of his naked body spread out across the bed sheets. He takes one of his solid, warm hands and runs it over Taeyong’s chest and stomach, and Taeyong arches up into it. 

 

Taeyong pushes his foot against Youngho’s thigh, whining. “I’m gonna kill you.” 

 

Youngho makes a satisfied noise at the back of his throat, trying to commit this image of Taeyong, bare and open for him, to his memory. “Yes, I think you might.” Before Taeyong can complain any more, he leans in, taking a perky pink nipple into his mouth. Taeyong moans, startled, and digs his fingers into Youngho’s hair. 

 

“You’re very sensitive,” Youngho remarks, as though he’s making a note to himself. Then, he turns his attention back to Taeyong, licking the nipple and running his tongue around it. One hand holds down Taeyong’s thrashing hips, and the other comes to his other nipple, and he rubs at the bud insistently. 

 

It pleases Youngho in a way he can’t quite comprehend, the way Taeyong responds so beautifully to every little thing he does. And the way Taeyong tugs at his hair makes his arousal even more unbearable, but he pushes it aside, because he’s on a mission to have Taeyong begging for him. 

 

Once he’s given an equal amount of attention to both of Taeyong’s nipples, they’re wet with saliva and the skin around them bruise red and purple. Youngho kisses down Taeyong’s abdomen, leaving bites in his wake, and Taeyong just keeps gasping, arching up against Youngho’s mouth. 

 

“ _ Youngho-- _ ” Taeyong whines when he ignores Taeyong’s cock in favor of nuzzling against the skin where his pelvis meets his thigh. Youngho licks the skin and tugs it between his teeth, and Taeyong’s leg quivers. He does the same to his other thigh, relishing the taste of Taeyong’s skin in his mouth. 

 

He takes a deep breath, taking a moment to enjoy the smell of Taeyong’s arousal, heady and thick in the air. There are lingering notes of lavender clinging to Taeyong’s skin, and it just serves to drive Youngho into a frenzy. 

 

“Youngho  _ do _ something,” Taeyong begs, tugging at Youngho’s hair to get him to look up. Youngho grins and pushes himself up, just barely grazing his mouth against Taeyong’s. 

 

“You’ll have to ask nicely, darling.” 

 

The fire that is normally present in Taeyong’s eyes has disappeared, leaving them glassy and unfocused with desire. It is a beautiful image, one Youngho never thought he’d see. Taeyong’s bottom lip quivers, pushed out into a pout. “ _ Please, _ Youngho.” 

 

And  _ oh, _ that does things to Youngho that he doesn’t have the capacity to wrap his mind around. Youngho presses an indulgent, open-mouthed kiss to Taeyong’s waiting lips, and hums when Taeyong just arches into him, like he was made to kiss Youngho, like they were meant to be pressed against each other like this. 

 

Taeyong’s nails dig into Youngho’s bare shoulders, and Youngho presses their hips together in retaliation. Taeyong choked out a sob, rolling his hips up. “Please, Youngho,  _ please, _ ” he mumbles, over and over again. 

 

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Youngho asks evenly, though it is hard to remain composed when Taeyong is writhing against him, desperate for more, and it’s almost ridiculous how badly Youngho wants to give everything to him. It takes all of Youngho’s willpower to pull away and get off the bed. 

 

“Where are you going?” Taeyong whines, thrown off by Youngho’s actions, and he makes quite the vision, limbs splayed out against the bed, skin glowing in the moonlight. His lips are kissed raw, and his hair is a tousled, sweaty mess across his forehead. Youngho considers just staying on top of Taeyong forever. 

 

Youngho winks at Taeyong, looking rather glorious, standing there half naked, his pants slung dangerously low around his hips. “Just a moment, darling.” Taeyong wants to say something snarky, but he blinks and Youngho is gone. He decides it’s for the best-- he can’t possibly string together a coherent sentence now that Youngho has reduced him to putty. 

 

Taeyong figured this would happen-- he’s always been rather pliant during sex. Initially, it had been to please his partners. Then he realized he liked it, being manhandled and pressed down and fucked. With Youngho, he feels safe enough to submit; he feels loved. He can snark and tease however he wants, but they both know it’s just a flimsy front. 

 

“I think I should fire Doyoung for this,” Youngho says, appearing suddenly, and Taeyong jerks, startled. 

 

“What?” Youngho smiles, kneeling on the bed and holding out a box of what looks like condoms. Taeyong takes it, eyebrows raised, noticing the blue sticky note on the front. 

 

**NO GLOVE NO LOVE**

**-Doyoung**

 

“Oh my god,” Taeyong laughs, covering his mouth just in time to stifle the ugly snort. He tosses the box somewhere on the bed and holds out his arms for Youngho, and the vampire crawls on top of him easily. 

 

“You’re the only one who thinks this is funny,” Youngho grumbles, leaning in to kiss him, and Taeyong moans happily. They hadn’t been separated for more than half a minute, and yet, Taeyong already craves Youngho’s kisses, the warmth of his body against his own. They kiss languidly for a few moments, before Youngho breaks away. 

 

“Are you sure you want to do this tonight?” Youngho asks. “Are we rushing this?” 

 

“I want this, Youngho. I want you.” That makes Youngho smile, wide and radiant. “Do you? Want this, I mean?” 

 

Youngho furrows his eyebrows, and Taeyong wants to smack him.  _ Stupid Youngho, _ he thinks. The vampire is the first to worry about everyone else, and then get confused when someone shows concern for him too. 

 

“I feel like I’ve waited three thousand years for you,” Youngho says, gaze so intense that Taeyong squirms, looking down. “If you want to do this, then so do I.” 

 

“I do,” he murmurs, closing his eyes when Youngho leans up to kiss his forehead. He hears Youngho snap open the lid of what can only be lube, and he shivers in anticipation. 

 

“Turn around for me, love,” Youngho says gently, and Taeyong is helpless to do anything but comply. Youngho props a pillow under Taeyong’s stomach, and Taeyong arches his back instinctively. He hides the grin into his pillow when Youngho groans, running an appreciative hand down Taeyong’s spine. “ _ God, _ you’re beautiful.” 

 

“Then  _ fuck _ me, Youngho,” Taeyong grumbles, but his voice breaks out into a groan when Youngho’s lube-slicked finger teases at his rim, then slips in. Taeyong lets out a shaky breath, and immediately, Youngho is pressed against him, mouth hot on his neck. 

 

“Does it hurt?” he asks. 

 

Taeyong tries to scoff, but it comes out strained, because Youngho twists his finger, his thumb working at the rim, and it’s simultaneously uncomfortable and  _ amazing. _ “It’s just one finger,” he says. 

 

“Tell me if it you’re uncomfortable, okay?” 

 

Taeyong nods, face still buried into the pillow. It’s been a long time since he’d done this last, and Youngho seems to sense this, kissing Taeyong’s shoulder comfortingly. It takes a minute before Taeyong is ready for another, and he moans brokenly when Youngho slides another long, warm finger inside him. He pushes back before he can even stop himself, and hisses at the sting. 

 

Youngho shushes him, letting him adjust, before curling his fingers  _ just _ right, rubbing against Taeyong’s prostate. Taeyong cries out, arching his spine so much that it’s almost painful. He wants to ask how Youngho found it so quickly, when Taeyong struggles every time he wants to finger himself; then he remembers Youngho probably has millennia of practice. 

 

Taeyong tries to remember to breathe as Youngho pumps his fingers in and out. The friction against his rim makes precum leak out of the tip of his cock, dripping down onto the sheets. He feels like the best kind of filthy, and it makes him moan again, louder than normal. Youngho’s mouth is wet behind his ear. 

 

“Good?” Youngho asks. 

 

“Good,” Taeyong affirms. The next few minutes pass by in a haze of pleasure, and Taeyoung learns just how efficient Youngho is at both prepping him and turning him into a blabbering mess. His prostate feels swollen, abused in the best way, and he thinks he could come just from Youngho’s fingers in him. Somehow, he knows Youngho wouldn’t be happy with him, so he holds out. 

 

“I-I’m ready,” Taeyong manages to stutter out, and repeats himself, steadier, when Youngho asks if he’s sure. 

 

Youngho slips his fingers out and helps Taeyong turn around. He tugs off his pants, and Taeyong swallows, drinking in Youngho’s fully naked form for the first time. He grabs for the box of condoms and rolls one onto Youngho himself. In a messy tangle of limbs, Taeyong clambers onto Youngho’s lap as the vampire slicks himself up. 

 

“Hi,” Taeyong says stupidly, straddling Youngho’s thighs, eyes wide as he takes in this unreal man in his arms. Youngho’s eyes are warm and smouldering and crinkle at the corners as he smiles. 

 

“Hi,” he parrots, running his hands down Taeyong’s spine to squeeze his ass appreciatively. Taeyong jerks a little and presses his forehead against Youngho’s. He can feel his heart hammering against his chest, excitement bubbling in his blood, as Youngho guides his cock to Taeyong’s ass. 

 

Taeyong sobs brokenly into Youngho’s mouth as he lowers himself down, thighs quivering with the strain. They don’t kiss, too focused on the mind-numbing pleasure, and just breath into each other, panting, until Taeyong is fully seated in Youngho’s lap, swallowing Youngho up into his tight, velvet heat. 

 

“ _ Fuck,” _ Youngho grits, hands gripping Taeyong’s hips with bruising strength, and Taeyong can only moan helplessly. Taeyong presses in closer, winding his arms tighter around Youngho’s neck, and licks into his mouth. Youngho groans, eyes screwed shut, and returns the kiss with equal fervor. 

 

They kiss like that for a minute, until Taeyong feels like he can breathe. He swivels his hips, and Youngho chokes out a moan, helping Taeyong raise himself up, before lowering himself again. Youngho’s hands press against Taeyong’s back, pressing them as close as humanly possible. Taeyong fucks himself onto Youngho’s cock, again and again, feeling knocked breathless every time it brushes against his prostate. 

 

Youngho kisses down Taeyong’s neck, nipping at his skin, and Taeyong tilts his head back to let the vampire leave a string of hickies across his throat. Youngho puts one hand down on the mattress and uses it as leverage to fuck into Taeyong. 

 

“ _ Youngho, _ ” Taeyong sobs, over and over again, mind reduced to static as he completely loses himself to the pleasure, bouncing up and down in Youngho’s lap. 

 

“ _ God _ , I love you,” Youngho groans, when Taeyong cries out at a particularly hard thrust. He rocks himself forward until Taeyong is on his back against the mattress. He slides his forearms underneath Taeyong’s shoulders and holds him in place while he fucks into him faster. 

 

Taeyong wraps his legs around Youngho’s waist, feet digging into the base of his spine, and cries out Youngho drills into him, harder and harder. He can feel tears prickling in his eyes, the orgasm building up until it’s almost painful. 

 

As if sensing Taeyong’s impending release, Youngho unwraps one arm from around Taeyong to brace against the headboard, using it as leverage to fuck into Taeyong’s heat almost violently. He feels the wood splintering in his grip, the bed frame creaking dangerously, but he can’t bring himself to care, not when Taeyong feels so  _ good _ around him. 

 

“ _ Fuck, _ Youngho I’m--” Taeyong doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he positively  _ screams _ , body going taut like a bowstring as he comes onto his and Youngho’s stomachs. His release seems to spur Youngho on, because the vampire fucks into him with a renewed effort, and the overstimulation hurts in the best way possible. 

 

Youngho comes with a groan, muffled into Taeyong’s shoulder. He’s mildly disappointed that Youngho’s wearing the condom, because he wants Youngho’s come inside him, filling him up.  _ Maybe later, _ he thinks, dazed. 

 

They stay still for a minute, trying to catch their breaths. Youngho is the first to recover, leaning in to kiss Taeyong. Their mouths meet sloppily, and Taeyong doesn’t have enough energy to fully kiss back, so he lets Youngho run his tongue against his teeth, press into his mouth, wet and dirty and beautiful. 

 

“Youngho…” Taeyong murmurs, stroking his hand up Youngho’s back to run his fingers gently through Youngho’s tousled hair. Youngho hums, still intent on getting acquainted with every space inside Taeyong’s mouth. Taeyong giggles at Youngho’s stubbornness, and pushes on his shoulder to get the vampire to look at him. 

 

“What?” Youngho asks, clearly disgruntled at having to stop kissing. 

 

“I think… you broke my bed.” Taeyong snickers when Youngho looks at the bed frame, and the place where he’d gripped is splintered beyond repair. 

 

Youngho smirks. “I guess then we’ll have to relocate to  _ my _ bed.” Taeyong rolls his eyes but smiles fondly as the vampire gets up. He whimpers a little when Youngho pulls out. Youngho kisses his temple apologetically, taking the condom off and tying it up. He gets off the bed, gloriously naked, and Taeyong bites his lip appreciatively as he walks into the bathroom. Moments later, Youngho appears with a wet washcloth, and carefully wipes Taeyong’s stomach, rim, and thighs before tossing it aside. 

 

“I’m too tired to move.” Taeyong pouts, trying to pull Youngho back to bed. He squeaks in surprise when Youngho sweeps him up into his arms bridal style. “Youngho what the hell are you  _ doing-- _ ” Taeyong winds his arms around Youngho’s neck, holding on for dear life, even though he knows full well Youngho would never let him fall. He lets himself be carried across the hall to Youngho’s bedroom.

 

“Are you always this whiny after sex?” Youngho asks, lowering Taeyong down onto his bed. Taeyong wriggles underneath the covers, happy with the familiar room and its smell. 

 

“Yes.” Taeyong pushes Youngho down and curls himself into Youngho’s side. 

 

“And you’re clingy too.” 

 

Taeyong huffs, making to get up. “Well if you’re going to just  _ complain-- _ ” 

 

“I’m not,” Youngho laughs, tugging Taeyong back and wrapping the human in his arms, secure. Youngho buries his face into Taeyong’s hair. “I’m really not.” 

 

“I’ll let it slide. But only because I love you.” Taeyong twists around to bury his face into Youngho’s chest, cheeks flaring red with embarrassment. Youngho’s body rumbles with a laugh, and he presses a kiss to Taeyong’s temple. 

 

“I love you too, darling.”

 

\--

 

Taeyong wakes up in the best way he could possibly imagine-- that is, wrapped up in Youngho’s arms, his comforting scent surrounding him like a favorite blanket. 

 

He can't stop the stupid smile from forming on his face, and he shifts his sore body a little so he can tilt his head up and--

 

Promptly bursts out screaming, because Youngho’s eyes open wide at that exact moment. The vampire startles as Taeyong jerks back, almost falling off the bed. 

 

“What the  _ fuck, _ Youngho,” Taeyong almost sobs out, heart hammering violently against his chest. 

 

“What? What did I do?” Youngho asks, trying to tug Taeyong back into his embrace. 

 

“You were just like. Looking at me all creepy like  _ Chucky _ or something.”

 

Youngho frowns. “Who is Chucky?”

 

Taeyong groans, burying his head into Youngho’s shoulder. “Never mind.”

 

“I apologize. I have never courted a human so I don't know what to do.” 

 

Taeyong raises his head, and his heart lurches, because Youngho looks like a kicked puppy. “I've never dated a vampire so I guess we’re even.” At that, Youngho shoots him a lopsided grin. 

 

“Is that what they call it now? Dating?”

 

Taeyong laughs, bringing his hand up to push Youngho’s hair off his forehead. “Yep. We’re boyfriends and we’re dating. Even though you scared the shit out of me just now.”

 

Youngho smiles like he's just been given presents on Christmas morning. “I'm your boyfriend?” he asks in awe. 

 

Taeyong laughs and leans in to kiss his nose. “Yes, if you want to be.”

 

Immediately, Youngho rolls over to smother Taeyong in his arms. “I definitely do.” And then, “This is the best day of my life.” 

 

“You said that yesterday,” Taeyong huffs. 

 

“Each day continues to get better and better,” Youngho says simply, and Taeyong aches. He thinks back to his life before Youngho-- he had felt so lost, hopeless, empty. Now, every day is a new adventure, and for the first time, he's learning more about himself and going after what he wants. He had gone into this arrangement needing help, and he'd gotten so much more. 

 

_ I found a home,  _ Taeyong thinks, hugging Youngho tight.  _ Youngho is my home.  _

 

“Did you know you're a very restless sleeper? You kicked me in the stomach twice last night.”

 

“Shut  _ up, _ Youngho.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo uhmmmm thats tHAT  
> im really rusty with my smut writing skills so i apologize uhhmmmm  
> full offense but if yall dont think johnathan youngho seo the third isnt packing then unfriend me now   
> the epilogue should be out soon and then its a wrap my friends!   
> as always u can find me @taewinnies on tumblr!


	6. happily ever after (sort of)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> donghyuck meets youngho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue!

“So…” Donghyuck drums his fingers on the table, narrowing his eyes at the two men sitting in front of him. 

 

“Don’t slouch,” Taeyong chides, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but straightens up anyway. His older brother bites nervously at his nail, hardly making eye contact. 

 

“So…” Donghyuck repeats, for emphasis. He narrows his eyes at Youngho, this weird looking vampire who’d shown up at  _ his _ doorstep with a (frankly, ostentatious) bouquet of flowers that had made Taeyong-- stoic, invincible Taeyong-- melt into a puddle of metaphorical goo. 

 

Youngho glares back, his left eye twitching. If Donghyuck wasn’t so  _ pissed, _ maybe he’d think twice about antagonizing someone who looks like an assassin and could probably slam dunk Donghyuck’s entire self off the balcony, but this guy is clearly holding Taeyong’s hand under the table and now Donghyuck is _really_ _ pissed.  _

 

“You’re dating my brother,” Donghyuck says evenly. 

 

“I am courting Taeyong, yes.” 

 

Donghyuck shoots Taeyong a look that is equal parts disbelieving and disgusted. “You’re co--” He huffs a laugh and looks up at the ceiling, trying to collect himself. He glares at his brother. “You're dating a guy who talks like Shakespeare?” 

 

“ _Donghyuck_ ,” Taeyong hisses in warning. 

 

“I’m just saying!” Donghyuck finds it hard to believe that Taeyong is  _ defending _ this giant goof. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, and proceeds with his examination. “So… you two met  _ volunteering _ for a blood donor program?” 

 

“Yeah,” Taeyong says weakly. Donghyuck narrow his eyes. Youngho--  _ what a stupid name-- _ has his face carefully neutral, but Taeyong is chewing on his thumbnail with renewed fervor, and it’s almost stupid how little faith Taeyong has in him not to pick up on his nervous habits. 

 

“That’s a big fuc--” Taeyong glares at him. “That’s a big  _ freakin _ lie because first, you--” he points at Taeyong, “--don’t have the time of day to volunteer, and  _ you-- _ ” he moves his attention to the vampire, “You basically own the planet of earth so you’re lying.” 

 

Taeyong’s face drains of all color, and Donghyuck leans back. “However,  _ I, _ being the kind and understanding little brother that I am, will let it slide. I don’t even  _ wanna _ know.” 

 

He then leans forward, bracing his hands on the table. “So the real question is--” He glares at Youngho. “When are you gonna turn my brother?” 

 

“ _ What? _ ” Taeyong splutters, louder than he’d been all night. 

 

Donghyuck frowns. “I mean, if you two are gonna get married then--”

 

“Who said  _ anything _ about getting married?” Taeyong screeches. Youngho frowns. 

 

“I mean, perhaps one day, darling, we could…” Youngho starts, and Taeyong blushes beet red. 

 

“Oh my god, Youngho we’ve only been dating for like three months, it’s too early to be--”

 

“Three months and thirteen days, to be precise--”

 

“Okay but  _ still, _ we can’t just--”

 

“Excuse me!” Donghyuck shrills, cutting them off. “Unbelievable,” he says, crossing his arms. “You two haven’t talked about this?” Both Taeyong and Youngho blink at him. Donghyuck sighs, shaking his head as he leans back. “If you ask me, I don’t think you two are emotionally ready to be in a relationship.” He clicks his tongue. “It’s really too bad.” 

 

Just then, the kitchen timer goes off with a loud shrill, and everyone jumps. “Food’s done!” Taeyong laughs nervously, getting up. “ _ Don’t _ kill each other while I’m gone.” 

 

“Yeah yeah.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, waiting for Taeyong to disappear into the kitchen. Youngho raises an eyebrow in challenge, so Donghyuck does the same. The stupid vampire has the  _ audacity _ to raise his eyebrow higher, so Donghyuck has no choice but to do the same. Youngho raises his eyebrow higher, and Donghyuck knows it’s not physically possible for him to win this (his specialty is eye rolling), so he sighs, exasperated, and breaks their contest, turning his head to the vase of flowers now sitting on the coffee table. 

 

Donghyuck smiles before looking at Youngho. “Did you  _ know, _ that Taeyong’s favorite flowers--”

 

“Are purple hydrangeas? Yes.” 

 

Donghyuck scoffs. “Then  _ why _ aren’t there any in that bouquet?” 

 

Youngho purses his lips. “My florist informed me they were out of season, so I got him his second favorite flower--”

 

“Daffodils, yada yada, I see ‘em.” Donghyuck shrugs. “Though, if you  _ really _ loved my brother, you could have found a way to get purple hydrangeas, since you’re all mighty and powerful and all that crap.” 

 

Youngho leans forward, eyes menacing. “Listen here,  _ twerp. _ I love your brother more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. And I will  _ gladly _ spend the rest of my existence trying to make him happy and make sure he wants for nothing. He’s had an incredibly difficult time in the last few years, and you’re not making it any easier.” 

 

Donghyuck gapes at Youngho, insulted, and leans over the table. “Are you  _ threatening _ me?” 

 

Youngho narrows his eyes. “That was not a threat, but let me be clear. I can think of at least ten ways to end your puny little life before you can roll your eyes one more time.” 

 

“You wouldn’t  _ dare--” _

 

“Wouldn’t I?” 

 

Donghyuck laughs and straightens up. “See, you can try to kill me. But then… Taeyong would be  _ so  _ sad. He might even  _ cry. _ Is that what you want,  _ Youngho? _ ” 

 

Youngho’s eye twitches, and he exhales sharply, before straightening up as well. “No.” 

 

Donghyuck smirks. “That’s what I thought.” 

 

Youngho assesses him for a few moments, and Donghyuck feels like the vampire is peeling back all his secrets, and he squirms in his seat. 

 

“Did you tell your brother that your powers have manifested?” Youngho asks suddenly, and Donghyuck’s smile drops, all the blood draining from his face. 

 

“What the  _ hell _ are you talking about?” Donghyuck hisses, eyeing the kitchen corridor nervously. 

 

Youngho tilts his head, looking pleased. “So you haven’t. Interesting.” 

 

“I-I’m gonna tell him when I feel ready,” Donghyuck stammers, his heart slamming against his ribcage. He eyes Youngho warily. “How did you know?” 

 

Now it’s Youngho’s turn to smirk. “I wasn’t born yesterday.” 

 

Donghyuck jeers. “Clearly.” He feels a twist of satisfaction when that wipes Youngho’s smirk right off his stupid, unnaturally-handsome face. 

 

“Taeyong won’t like you keeping secrets from him.” 

 

“That’s none of your business.” 

 

“Taeyong’s happiness  _ is _ my business.” Youngho says it so seriously that Donghyuck feels a little shaken.  _ This idiot is really in love with my brother. _ “I can help you.” 

 

“I don’t need your--” Donghyuck snaps back, too quick to even process Youngho’s words. He backtracks. “What do you  _ mean, _ you can help me?” 

 

“You want answers? I can get you answers.” 

 

Donghyuck chews on his bottom lip, contemplating. Finally, his curiosity outweighs his pride. “Fine,” he spits. “But what’s in it for you?” 

 

“Keep yourself out of trouble. And eat healthy; Taeyong’s very worried about whether you’re getting all your vitamins.” 

 

Donghyuck’s face twists. “You’re gonna help me just so I’ll eat my fucking  _ vegetables? _ ” 

 

Youngho laughs. “I have better things to do than blackmail little children.” 

 

Donghyuck wonders whether Youngho will still help him if he punches the vampire in the face. Youngho reaches into his breast pocket (because he’s wearing a suit,  _ like a tool _ ) and slides a small, innocuous-looking business card over the table. Donghyuck grabs it and reads the phone number printed on it, before stuffing it into his pockets.

 

“I hope you’ll tell Taeyong soon. He deserves to know.” 

 

“Sure thing, mom,” Donghyuck drawls. Right then, Taeyong walks in holding a steaming dish with oven mitts. 

 

“Lasagna, anyone?” 

 

\--

 

“Well, that wasn’t a  _ complete _ disaster,” Taeyong says, closing the door behind him as he and Youngho step out into the hall. 

 

“We’re all in one piece, so I concur.” Youngho sags into Taeyong’s arms when he opens them up. “Your brother hates me,” he whines into Taeyong’s shoulder. Taeyong laughs, rubbing his back soothingly.

 

“It’s going to take him a while to get used to it, I think.” Youngho groans. “I think he’s just… not used to having to sharing my attention now. He comes off bratty at first, but he’s really sweet and sensitive.” 

 

“Yes, it seems like he could  _ potentially _ be very sweet.” Taeyong rolls his eyes as Youngho pulls away and straightens up. “Was I alright?” 

 

“You were great. And you didn’t even threaten to kill him once all night. I’m very proud of you.” 

 

Youngho laughs, grinning. “Yes. I held myself back.” 

 

Taeyong pats his cheek and goes up on his tiptoes to peck Youngho on the lips. “Get home safe.” Youngho whines, and Taeyong laughs, kissing him again. 

 

“One more.” Youngho pouts, so Taeyong presses their mouths together firmly, before stepping back. “One more,” Youngho whines again, winding his arms around Taeyong and pulling him close. 

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Taeyong huffs, but lets Youngho kiss him again. Youngho’s body is so warm and firm against his that it’s easy to forget where he is. When Youngho licks into his mouth, he makes a small noise of satisfaction, winding his arms around Youngho’s shoulders, holding him close. Youngho’s mouth is perfect and addictive and hot, and the vampire knows  _ just _ how to kiss Taeyong to get him to yield. 

 

“Darling,” Youngho murmurs, breaking the kiss so he can trail his mouth along Taeyong’s jaw. “How do you feel about semi-public sex?” Taeyong laughs and smacks Youngho’s chest, scandalized. “I can’t wait a week to have you.” 

 

“Y-Youngho,” Taeyong tries not to moan as Youngho crushes their mouths together, and lets himself be rocked back and forth as Youngho sucks on his bottom lip. “D-Donghyuck is on the other side of the d-door--”

 

“ _ Actually, _ Donghyuck is right here,” Donghyuck chirps, and Taeyong springs away from Youngho, pressing the back of his hand over his mouth. “Yes hello, if you two are  _ quite done, _ Taeyong--” He reaches forward and grabs Taeyong, pulling him into the apartment. “--needs to read me my bedtime story.” 

 

Taeyong huffs, pushing Donghyuck back into their home, before smiling sheepishly at Youngho. “Good night Youngho. I love you.” 

 

Youngho leans in to peck Taeyong’s lips. “I love you too, darling.” 

 

“ _ God, _ this is so  _ gross! _ ” Donghyuck yells. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u to everyone who has stuck around for this story n has left such sweet n supportive comments! they really motivated me to stay on top of this and stick to a schedule. thank u to lynnie and bon for helping so much with beta'ing and giving me second opinions.  
> but wait! there's more!  
> i am planning on writing a fic in this universe for the dream team which will follow donghyuck in his college adventures (i already gave u a couple hints hehehehuhahahahaaa) so please look forward to that, though it is not necessarily in the immediate future!  
> i am also in the middle of constructing a research lab au for all of nct and that will probably be posted throughout the rest of the summer, before i start posting the dream team fic.  
> again, a massive thank u to everyone!!! ill see u all very soon!  
> -nini
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hyuckheis) || [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/hyuckheis) || [tumblr ](https://hvuckheis.tumblr.com/)


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